Cards, Claws and Gloves
by oubliez-moi-pas
Summary: A red-eyed student comes to the school and doesn't speak English. . .or does he? Rated for language only. Please review.
1. Default Chapter

A/N: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own the X-Men so please don't sue me. However if the good people at Marvel ever wanted to sell them I do have $3 in the bank and it's all their's baby.

This fic is written in three languages. Here's the deal. There was a lot of confussion and as I am attempting to learn these languages from scratch, the translations were very wrong as I was told...over and over again.  Until I can find two incredible French and German betas, I decided to change the format somewhat.  

If a line is written in _French_ it is in italics.  If it is in **German**, then it is written in bold.   If someone ::Thinks:: something then it is encased in colons.  If there is a ~telepathic conversation~, then it's got squigglies.  Sorry for the confusion. *bows*

Cards, Claws, and Gloves

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here," Jubilee whispers.

Rogue giggles. "It won't be that bad, Jubes. It's only German class."

"Yes, but it is a frickin' immersion class, chica," Jubilee says dramatically as both girls enter the classroom.

"**I'm sure that you will do quite well, Miss Lee,**_"_ Kurt says warmly.

„Um, Yeah. The bathroom's down the hall, Mr. Wagner," Jubes says, confused. Rogue just laughs. Her French is just as good as her English. Growing up in Mississippi, there were times she needed French just as much as English. Kurt had been helping her improve the German her mother insisted she learn. Now, she caught the majority of what Kurt said in his native tounge

"**Good Morning, Mr. Wagner**_". _ Rogue replies smiling.

Both girls take their seats as Kurt closes the door.

**"My name is Kurt Wagner. You can call me Kurt. That is fine. I know most of you have no idea what I am saying but by the grace of God, you may by the end of the year."** The class looks blankly at him. "**Hopefully.**_"_

Rogue stifles a giggle. There is a knock at the door. Kurt keeps talking as his tail snakes over and turns the knob. He glances over at the door. Ororo Monroe stands in the doorway with a tall wiry man with devilish eyes–and not just because they were black and red.

**"Excuse me a moment please, class,"** Kurt says, turning his attention to the newly arrived white-haired goddess.

"_Hello, my goddess," _ Kurt purrs devilishly. "_To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, my love ? Are you here for a repeat performance of last night ?"_

Ororo sighs. ::Incorrigible::, she thinks. "_Behave. As it turns out, I believe that you chose an appropriate language. We have a new student. We don't believe he speaks English. I need Rogue to help tutor him," _she says.

"_Sweet Jesus. Rouge speaks French," _ Kurt sputters.

_"Fluently," _ Rogue answers from her seat.

**"Great. It will be all over the mansion by lunch," ** Kurt sighs, slipping into his native tounge.

**"I speak that language too, Mr. Wagner,"** Rogue says cheekily.  "**You're secret's safe with me, I swear. It's the least that I can do since you saved my life**_," _she says, collecting her things.

**Thank you, Rogue. If you come by later, I will catch you up on what you've missed today.**

**Thanks, sugar,** she replies.

Ororo rolls her eyes. She was definately going to need to learn German.

"_Rogue, this is Remy Le Beau. Remy, this is Rogue," _ Ororo says as the door to Kurt's classroom closes.

"_It is a pleasure to meet you,"_ Remy purrs, reaching for Rogue's hand. She jerks it away quickly, startling him. The deck of cards in his hand glows pink, involuntarily.

_"No offence, sugar. It's just the mutation," _she apologizes.

"_You don't need to be scared of me,"_ Remy says defensively. "_I won't hurt you."_

"_I can't make you the same promises. It's my mutation I was worried about, not yours," _she says calmly.

"_Yes, well. Rouge, please show Remy down to the library. He has all of his assignments, but they are in English. We are trying to get a French tutor_ _up here in a few days. Thanks for helping, Rogue,_ Ororo says, eyeing the two of them. "_I have a history class in ten minutes, if you two need anything."_

_"I'm sure that we'll be fine, Miss Monroe,"_ Remy says, taking her hand in his and kissing it gallantly.

_"You are a little devil, aren't you, Mr. Lebeau." _ Ororo laughs as she walks down the hall.

Then it dawns on Rogue. That is why she's tutoring him. He won't be able to charm her physically. She sighs out loud.

_"Is there something wrong, darling?"_ Remy asks, looking over at Rogue.

"_Not at all, sugar. Just getting a little understanding", _she says, smiling as she looks over to him. "_Are you glowing or are you just happy to see me?" _ she jokes.

"_It's my mutation. If I let go of the pack, it will explode," _he replies sheepishly.

"_Well sugar_, _I can't teach you while you are holding a bomb. Let's go find Logan. He will be able to take us to the Danger Room."_

"_Who is Logan ?" _ Remy asks.

"_He's a friend of mine here. In fact, there he is," _she says, beaming at the feral man stalking up the hallway.

"_Morning, Logan," _ she says.

"I don't speak French," Logan snarls.

"Yes you do, you punk. If I still have nightmares, you still speak French," she says stubbornly.

"_Fine. I speak French. Happy now?"_ he growls.

"Yes, but since Remy doesn't speak English, I'll stick to this," she says smugly. "Remy had an accident with his mutation. Apparently, he can make things explode. He's charges a pack of cards and now we need to go someplace like the Danger Room or Mr. Summers' shooting range so they can detonate without taking out half the mansion," she explains.

"I haven't even had my morning beer yet, " he objects.

"Please, Logan ? " she purrs, giving him puppy-dog eyes.

"_Fine, kid. Come on, Gumbo. You get to go to the Danger Room with me,"_ Logan growls.

"_How did you know I was Cajun?"_ Remy asks.

"_Easy. You reek of it."_

"_I haven't had gumbo in three days. You just guessed"_ Remy says smoothly.

Rogue giggled. "_Trust me sugar, he's that good."_

"_As good as you?" _ Remy drawls.

"Dream on, swamp rat, " she answers.

Remy quickly stifles a chuckle. Both Rogue and Logan catch it. 

**"He speaks English,"** Rogue hisses.

** "Caught that,"** Logan says.

** "He told everyone that he didn't,"**Rogue says.

**"Slow down, kid. Your German's gotten better since Blue Boy moved in."**

**"He told everyone that he didn't speak English",**she says slower.

"**Let's go find out why,"** Logan says, getting a dangerous glint in his eyes.

**"You can't really hurt him, Wolverine,"** she cautions.

** "As you wish, Marie_,"_ **he says mockingly.

"_You can blow up anything in here, Gumbo," _ Logan growls. "_Shoot for the targets down there. We might as well see how good your aim is." _

"_No problem, my friend,"_ Remy says, easily sending each of the 52 cards sailing across the room to the moving targets.

"_Easy as gumbo," _ Remy says, turning to stare at three metal claws pointed at his throat.

″Okay, bub. Who are you and why did you lie to us?″ Logan asks dangerously.

″Calm down, _mon ami_, ″ Remy says non-chantly. ″Just seeing if I needed to protect myself. I see that I do,″ he says as, with a finger, Logan's claws glow an iridescent pink.

"_Oh, no you don't,"_ Rogue says, already missing her gloves. Thanks to Logan still bouncing around in her head, she saw trouble coming.

″'Night, boys, ″ She drawls touching the faces of both men at once.

"_Fuck,"_ say all three at once, as the two men drop to either side of Rogue. On Logan's way down, she impales her hand on his claws and uses Remy's powers to stop the glowing. The weight of Logan's falling body dislodges the adamantium blades from her body.

Scott walks in for a workout just in time to see both men fall, and Logan's claws emerge through the back of Rogue's hand. He breaks into a run as he sees he begin to swoon. He reaches her just as she starts to fall. He scoops her body into his arms, careful of her exposed skin.

He stoops down and checks the pulse of both men. Satisfied both are still alive, he carries Rogue out the doors, hitting the emergency alarm by the door on the way out.

Rogue begins to regain consciousness on the way to Scott's room. He'd already contacted the Professor. Both agreed Rogue needed to go someplace quiet to recover. Remy especially would need to be calmed after his near death experience. For Logan, it was Monday. Of course someone tried to kill him. 

_"I'm so sorry Scott. I didn't think they'd hurt each other._

"_It's okay, Rogue. Both of them are fine. Don't worry about them." _ Scott says soothingly.

"_You speak French?"_ she asks, still woozy. Having both men in her head yelling at each other made her disoriented.

"_Jean did. I picked it up from her." _ Scott said quietly.

"_I'm sorry, love." _ Rogue says, brushing her hand across Scott's stubbly face. After a moment, she starts to feel her eyes get tingly. She pulls her hand away reluctantly.

"_I forgot that I didn't have gloves on," _she apologizes. "_Why did you let me touch you ?"_

"_Everybody needs touched, Rogue,"_ Scott answers. "_I'm just glad that I didn't shave this morning." _

"_Me, too,"_ Rogue says, leaning up to very lightly rub her face against his stubble. She sighs prettily.

He nudges his bedroom door open and crosses over to his bed. He places her down on the quilt and covers her with a blanket from the foot of the bed.

He kisses the top of her head through her hair. "_Sleep well, beautiful. I'll tell the Professor what happened." _Rogue mumbles something and went back to sleep. She had never absorbed two people at once before and her system was shutting down to recover.

Scott stands in the doorway for a while. Watching this girl sleep on Jean's side of the bed was calming. There was a time, not long ago, when this sight would have made him physically ill. Now he can almost hear Jean again. ::I told you it would be okay.:: 

Scott feels a three-fingered hand on his shoulder. **"She's fine, Kurt." **he says.

**"She must have touched you,"** Kurt replies, smiling.

Scott pauses for a long moment. **"Yes.  Sorry, Kurt. The Professor just finished scaning my mind."**

Kurt nods knowingly. **"She is something, isn't she?"**

**"That she is, Mr. Wagner, That she is,"** Scott replies.

**"Do you know why it was so important for her to learn German?" **Kurt asks curiously.

**"No. Neither does she,"** Scott replies, never taking his eyes off Rogue's sleeping form.

**"I'll let you go, my friend,"** Kurt says, turning to go.

"Nightcrawler," Scott calls. Kurt turns around. 

**"Congrats on catching yourself a goddess." **

Scott laughs at Kurt's sheepish expression. **"Did you really say that in a classroom?" **Scott asks.

Kurt shrugged. "I didn't know anyone else spoke French."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I am very sorry that this chapter took so bloody long to be published but you see, this story was to be a one-shot. I had to quickly come up with an actual plot. I promise to update more often. Oh and incase you went a little loopy and forgot, I am not Marvel. I only play with mutants. I don't actually own them or anything. 

Enough of this note, please read and review. 

It was the eyes--so deep blue, so innocent. Logan feels his heart beating out of his chest. The butterflies in his stomach were holding a kegger, of this he is sure. Inhaling chilled air into his lungs, he closes his eyes. Without the aid of vision, he can feel petal-soft lips moving hesitantly towards his.

He starts to know things. He knows that Bobby Drake was utterly terrified of his parent's reaction to him. He knows that Bobby's dad is a huge supporter of the Mutant Registration Act--in fact, he had even donated one hundred dollars to Senator Kelly's re-election campaign in Bobby's name. He knew that Ronnie always looked at Bobby with a mixture of admiration and loathing. He knew that, deep down, Ronnie had wanted to be born first, to not be the baby brother. Logan's eyes fluttered open, to be greeted with a look of terror and pain. He was kissing Bobby Drake.

**"Storm" **Logan cries, jerking awake with a start, claws drawn.

Kurt's head jerks around as he walks past the medlab. Hearing his lover's name yelled by another man's voice was enough to give him pause. After his surprising conversation with Scott, he thinks that maybe having a German translator on hand may not be such a bad idea. 

::This isn't me,:: Logan thinks. ::Someone else.::He could feel someone else in his head._ Marie. _He feels Rogue's insecurity and uncertainty--the first time in a long time he has ever felt such feelings. In that instant his already strong protective streak towards Rogue kicks in. _Where is she?_ Logan thinks, his nose searching for a scent like an animal searching for its cub. He catches a scent coming towards him.  Not Marie, but familiar.

"**Where am I? Don't tell me I'm alone here. I smell somebody**." Logan calls, panic rising in his voice. 

Kurt sighs, suppressing his own unfamiliar sense of jealousy. **"You are not alone, I assure you Herr Logan. In a mansion like this, you are never alone."** Kurt chuckles as he enters the medlab.

** "I assume that I have you to thank for this, Blue Boy."** Logan growls, grumpily. 

**"Actually, I think that you have Rogue to thank for it. I only helped her German to improve."** Kurt says with a swish of his tail.

**"How did you know that I would wake up speaking something as obscure and complex as German?"** Logan asks, allowing the artificially familiar words to roll on his tongue.

**"I beg to differ. German is not that complex and obscure. You should try learning English from scratch some time. Talk about complex."**

Logan rolls his eyes, for a moment wondering what has riled up the elf, but after a split second realizing that he doesn't really care. **"Fine, Foreign and complex to me, who just received the mother of all immersion sessions."**

**"That, I believe,"** Kurt concedes with a laugh. 

His mind still foggy, Logan feels a stiffness in his hands. With a bit of a head shake, he remembers the sensation--he has three nine-inch blades unsheathed and jutting out of each hand. With a reflex he snaps the claws back with a satisfying _SNIKT_. 

Logan gives a rough chuckle at Kurt's expression. It still amazes Kurt, watching those magnificent claws spring in and out of Logan's arms. As Ororo has told him repeatedly, it is something that he would get used to, in time.

"Good. I was hoping you would be awake by now," Professor Xavier's caramel-smooth voice says with just a hint of amusement.

**"How the hell are ya Chuck?"** Logan says with a grin as the Professor wheels himself into the medlab. Maybe this would be fun after all.

**"I am quite good,"**the Professor said as he stopped his wheelchair in front of Logan's bed The Professor smirks as the expression on Logan's face drops, as if the Grinch had just come in and canceled Christmas. 

**"I was simply seeing if you could add anything to Rogue's story of how it came to be that she had to start to drain both you and a new student at the same time**_," _said the Professor. 

"Well, if Rogue gave you the story, she had a better view of the whole thing," Logan said. "I was a little busy being unconscious."

"Yes, I was aware of that," Professor Xavier said. "I have yet to get the story from Rogue herself. I had to get it from Scott's mind."

"Why does Scooter know what's going on?" Logan asks incredulously. "Where's Rogue? Why can't she tell you herself?"

"Logan," Xavier says, sharply calming the feral look beginning to darken Logan's face. He was projecting very loudly. The wolverine inside Logan is screaming to find out what has happened to his cub. 

"She is fine," Xavier says calmly. "It was very difficult for her to absorb two people simultaneously. It is very understandable that she needed to rest. I have not probed her mind because the situation did not warrant it." 

"You still haven't told me how One-Eye got wrapped up in all this." Logan asks as he slides down off the bed. He hated those things for as long as he can remember.

"I believe that he was going into the Danger Room for a workout," the Professor starts. "He only saw Rogue touch both of you, and your claws emerge from the back of her hand, while both you and Mr. LeBeau fell."

"Chuck!" Logan says, more animated than usual. Xavier allowed himself a slight chuckle at the un-Logan like exclamation. 

"The kid," Logan says with a growl. "That gumbo eatin' Swamp Rat speaks English."

"I am well aware, Logan."

"And how the hell did you know that?" Logan says, leaning against the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. 

Xavier gives Logan a patient smile. "Usually, one does not think in a language that he does not have the ability to speak." 

"Then why let him lie to us? Why go through all of the trouble of finding a tutor for him when you knew that he spoke English?"

"Obviously Mr. LeBeau wanted to hide and keep something back incase he needed it for some reason. A defense mechanism if you will. Haven't you ever tried to hide behind some ability you have for what ever reason?" Professor Xavier gives Logan a knowing smile. "Oh, and Logan, don't give Rogue such a hard time about learning French. I happen to know that you spoke Canadian French before you even arrived here." Xavier says with a smile as he turns his chair to go, followed by Kurt.

"Stay out of my mind Chuck." Logan grumbles.

_Don't think in French when you ask me to read your mind,_ Xavier offers as he turns his chair to leave. Kurt's tail gives an amused flip as both men leave the room, while visions of gutting the Cajun dance in Logan's head. 

Remy's red eyes flutter open. He reaches up to feel the knot that he is sure must be on his forehead. He is disturbed to find nothing. » _Did someone get the license plate of the speeding piano that hit me?_ He asks to no one in particular.

A feather-soft laugh is his response.

Remy turns his head to blink in the direction of where the sound came from. Part of him is surprised to discover that he is not alone. 

_I'm sorry, but what did you in doesn't have a license plate… come to think of it, she doesn't have a license yet. Although I am sure that she is working on it._ Ororo chuckles quietly. From what Logan had told her in the past, she was sure that Remy had one monster of a headache.

_Miss Munroe?_ Remy asks shakily. _What happened? My head. It's a little..._

_"It's like trying to think through pea soup."_ Ororo finishes patiently.

_"Yeah, that's exactly it. Has this ever happened to you?"_ Remy asks

_"Thank the Goddess, no. Do you remember anything?"_

Remy thinks for a second. Like a rewinding videotape, the last day's event crash into his mind. Running from a rival guild. Hearing about Xavier's. Stealing his way to New York, speaking only French, just in case. Talking with the Professor. Meeting Ororo. Meeting Rouge. Meeting Logan. The Danger Room. Charging metal claws. And then abruptly, his memory ends.

"I guess that should answer my next few questions," says Professor Xavier. Remy stares at the tall, lithe, indigo-blue man with the spaded tail pushing the Professor's wheelchair. 

**"How are you feeling today, Mr. LeBeau? I have a feeling that for the next few moments this might be easier for you to comprehend."** Kurt says warmly. He gets three blank stares in return. 

"I'm sorry, what?" Remy says with a slight shake of his head. "One more language being spoken to me is too much." _I'm going to stick with English for a while_, Remy thinks, _with just a little French thrown it for flavor._

The Professor turns his chair to look at Kurt. **"Why would you think that Remy can speak German now?" **He asks, genuinely confused.

**"Because Logan's German got better,"** Kurt replies, equally as confused. **"Isn't that the way Rogue's mutation works? She can swap knowledge as she drain a person?"**

**No, she only swaps some basic information with Logan because he can heal as she is draining him. We are not entirely sure why. Hank is still running tests to find out why that is,**said the Professor.

**I guess that makes sense for Mr. Logan.**Kurt sighs, wrinkling his brow. ** Then I wish that Herr Summers would have at least told me that he spoke German earlier than this. I miss speaking my native language to someone else who can fully grasp it**_. _The blue elf sighs. **No offence, professor.**

**Kurt, you must be mistaken. Scott doesn't know German. The only other language he knows is French because Jean used telepathy to teach it to him. It was an experiment at university.**

**Professor, I have been speaking German all my life. I am quite sure that Scott spoke German to me. I asked him if he had touched Rogue and he said that he had briefly. I guess not enough to knock him out. You may look if you want.**

**Thank you Kurt, that is very kind of you.** The Professor says ask he gently pulls up the events of a few hours ago. The entire conversation between Kurt and Scott plays again before both his eyes and Xavier's.

"This is most interesting." The professor states simply, as he tries to sort though the information.

"Finally, something I can understand," says Remy exasperatedly. "Do they do this often?" he asks Ororo.

"Unfortunately," Ororo says with a shrug. "Not many people in the mansion speak German. Kurt doesn't get to speak in his own language very often."

"Where did you learn French?" Remy asks.

"Kenya. You?"

"Canal Street." Remy says with a smile.

"I've always wanted to go there." Ororo says, her face beaming with excitement.

"I'd say that I would take you there sometime but somehow I don't see you making a living the say way that I did." Remy says with a roguish grin.

» _You'd be surprised Mr. Lebeau,_ Ororo says, letting the subject drop with a knowing smirk.

Rouge is running. The scent of spices and curry and shrimp torment her senses. Her stomach takes over and demands itself to be known. She ducks in alleyways and peers slowly round the corner to see if anyone is perusing her. She sees masked men with needles in a lab. She is no longer on the street--she is tied down to a table with wide leather straps. The smell of tantalizing food is replaced by antiseptic and fear. She is unsure if the fear is hers or theirs. There is a part of her that is sure that these men hiding behind masks are terrified of her. She watches light dance off a blade as it comes towards her. She screams as she feels the sensation of falling. She looks up to see a large green parachute. Arms tighten around her chest. 

"I'm so scared," says a voice behind her. She feels the weight of another body against her back. 

"Shh," she calms. "I am too, Alex. It's going to be okay. Mom and Dad are going to be fine. They are just going to meet us on the ground. It's just an adventure, like Dad said, remember?" She feels a small head nodding against the back of her neck.

She looks down. The ground is coming up too fast. She rotates herself so that she will hit the ground first and try to spare Alex the direct impact. 

"Scott!" Rogue screams as she sits bolt upright in bed. Her hand catches the side of the nightstand. She grasps a set of keys, which crackle with pink energy as she clutches them. Disoriented, Rogue holds the glowing keys in front of her. She turns them over in her hand to drop them on the bed.

"No! Please don't let go," Scott's panicked voice rings though Rouge's ears.

_I'm sorry. _**I'm not sure**what happened_,_ Rogue apologises.

_It's okay. Just don't let them go. Not only could you take out the bed but there are student rooms underneath us. I don't know what kind of blast Remy can produce._

_Oh, I remember now._ Rogue says. _I started to drain Remy _and Logan at the same_ **time and then…**_ She stops for a second as she notices an unfamiliar twinge behind her eyes_. Did I drain you too, Scott? Are you okay?_

"I think that you might have started to, but not enough to hurt me. You may still have some of my optic blasts, though." Scott sits next to Rogue on the bed, gently, so as not to jostle the glowing magenta motorcycle keys of death in Rogue's hand. 

"Just do me a favor. Pick a language and stick with it for a moment. Your speaking in tongues is giving me a headache."

"Sorry Mr. Summers. I just get a little disoriented after… well, you know." Rogue says sheepishly, ducking her head slightly. ::What else can you do or say when you could have killed someone?:: She thinks to herself.

"It's quite alright." Scott smiles.

"What are we going to do about these keys?" Rouge asks with a grin.

"Well, let's take them down to the shooting range. You can try out my blasts while you're at it." Scott says with a grin.

"Cool." Rogue agrees as she gets out of bed, keys still gripped tightly in her hand.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Honestly, I did not expect to have this chapter done so quickly, but here it is anyway. Ok, here is the deal. I know that some people are getting confused/annoyed at having multiple languages and translations so if you want, I can cut down on all of the languages. I never meant to write a fic like this one-shot got a mind of its own. Oh, I do not speak either Italian or Portuguese, so thank God for Babelfish. Just in case someone fell down and bumped their head, no I don't own the X-Men or claim to. I am a poor and the only things that I have are English to French and English to German dictionaries, as you might have noticed. Enjoy and please tell me what you think.

Chapter Three

Professor Xavier wheels himself down the smooth cobblestone path. The warm sun filters through the tree leaves. The summer session has just begun, but the early June sun has yet to acquire the uncomfortable intensity late July inflicts upon upstate New York. The Professor sighs.

"You're so quiet, Charles," says the blue, lion-like geneticist to Xavier's left.

"Just thinking, Hank," the Professor says, smiling patiently. "I just don't understand how what I saw in Kurt's mind could be possible."

"There are a great many things that are not yet conceivable by modern scientific convention. You of all people should be accustomed to that, Professor. I believe when you were my age, mutants were only lore, fairy tales and the stuff of comic books," Hank McCoy says with a playful grin before pressing a button on his wristwatch, activating the image inducer. The gigantic feline Beast fades under a holographic covering, leaving a tall, muscular, brown-haired man standing in his place in the shade.

"That I cannot deny. For a great many years, I believed that I was alone, and possibly insane. Then I met Erik. In our arrogance and bravado, the kind that only youth can curse a man with, we thought that we were the cutting edge of evolution," Xavier says wryly.

"I guess that Logan ruined that one for you as well," Hank chuckles, placing both hands into the pockets of his lab coat.

"That I cannot deny," Xavier agrees. The two mutants make their way up the path. The sound of blasts hitting targets greets both men as they round the corner. Coming into view is a figure dressed in black leather nailing every moving target with precision- timed optic blasts.

"Good Lord, Charles. I know that you told me that he hasn't trained in months, but I must say that Scott has not lost one iota of his ability," Hank replies, not bothering to hide the open admiration in his voice.

"You really haven't been here in a while, have you?" Xavier says, turning to look at his former student. "Put on your glasses, Dr. McCoy. That is a seventeen-year-old girl. Scott is throwing the disks."

Hank fishes in his lab coat pocket for his glasses and puts them on. "Ah, indeed, Charles, the spectacles do make a world of difference. When did Scott get so tall?" Dr. McCoy laughs.

"Long about the time of your second doctorate dissertation," Charles answers, trying to catch randomly projected thoughts before Hank interrupts again.

"Is this a third Summers sibling?"

"No," Charles answers simply.

Hank opens his mouth to ask another question when the figure in black stoops and wheels around in an attack stance, white streaks of hair pulling loose from the bun she has captured it in.

Hank gasps. The girl with the optic blasts and Cyclops' uncanny precision is Rogue.

"Now you see why you are here," Charles states finitely.

"Sorry, Professor, Dr. McCoy," Rogue says softly as Cyclops comes up behind her, placing a hand on the small of her back as she stands.

"It's quite all right, Rogue. My sincerest apologies for impeding your vigorous gladiatorial session," Hank replies warmly.

"English, McCoy," Rogue and Cyclops say, at the exact same time. Identical mischievous grins adorn the faces of both mutants.

"My goodness. I've not heard that since I was a student here," Hank laughs.

"Rogue, if you are through here, I know that Logan is quite anxious to know how you are doing," the Professor offers, his polite tone betraying his ulterior motive.

"Meaning you want me to go and try to calm him down a little before you have to have the repairmen down here to fix the Danger Room again," Rogue says with a rakish grin that does not belong to her.

"Yes, that is exactly what I was hoping that you would acquiesce to," the Professor answers.

"Will do. I'm almost out of optic blasts as it is," Rogue answers, turning to Cyclops. "I had fun training this afternoon. How is it that you got the cool mutation, Scooter?"

Xavier's intense gaze follows every movement that transpires. For the life of him, he does not know what he is waiting for until it happens.

"It was my pleasure, Marie," Scott says in a husky tone. His left arm snakes its way around Rogue's waist and, in one smooth motion, he pulls the younger girl towards him. In a matter of seconds, his mouth hovers inches above hers. Rogue places a leather glove firmly in the middle of the taller man's chest, slowly pushing him away from her body. Scott shakes his head slightly before giving Rogue a confused look. _I'm sorry_, she mouths, brushing her gloved hand across Scott's cheek before turning towards Professor Xavier and Dr. McCoy, both with their mouths slightly ajar from the surprise.

"Remy LeBeau is an empath, Professor," Rogue says, clasping both hands underneath her chin. "I didn't know for sure until just now." She hangs her head, looks back for a moment in girlish embarrassment at Scott. With a small shake and a clearing of her throat, she turns back to the Professor and Hank. "I'll go find Logan now if you would like." Rogue offers in a low voice, making her way up the path.

"Thank you, Rogue," Xavier says, with a patronly smile.

"Oh, Professor?" Rogue starts, as all three men turn their attention again to the young woman. "Remy doesn't know that he has that ability yet. Could you imagine if he knew that he could control it? There will be no living with him after that. _No woman in the mansion will be safe._

All three men laugh. "Too true," Xavier replies, watching his student disappear up the path. He wheels himself around to face Cyclops. Scott already knows what his mentor is about to say. "We need to talk."

--

Kurt Wagner wanders down the hall, muttering to himself in his native German, not looking where he is going. He is ripped out of his thoughts abruptly by a sudden impact, which sends him flailing backwards. He lands hard on the floor, tail-first, with another person sprawled atop of him.

**My God in Heaven**, Kurt says, looking up at the woman lifting herself off of his chest in the hallway. The lights begin to flicker to life around them as the sun sinks low in the evening sky.

**You can say that again,** Rogue replies, lifting herself up and helping the blue demon to his feet. I'm sorry to run into you. I was looking for Logan, she says. Her eyes catch sight of the rosary entwined in Nightcrawler's three-fingered hand.

**What's wrong, love? You never wander and pray,** she says, narrowing her eyes, almost daring him to even think about lying to her, before her features softened. ::Logan's personality always seems to linger longer than any other::, she thinks.

**It is silly, darling. There is no need to fret about it,** Kurt replies, turning his back to her and bamfing. Rogue's hand flicks out and grabs hold of Kurt's tail as she watches the hallway disintegrate into blue-black smoke.

--

As the world once again becomes solid around her, she clasps onto Kurt's tail tighter as she realizes she is outside, and at a considerable height. With a quick glance, she sees that she is on the roof of the Xavier mansion. To her left, she spies the glass of a skylight. She peers inside, making out a veritable jungle of ferns and potted flowers in the room below. ::Storm's attic::, Rogue thinks, a wry grin crossing her mouth. ::Of course::.

**Now I know where you go when we can't find you,** Rogue says, brushing away silver and brown strands of hair from her face.

**Only in the summer. It would be too cold in the winter,** Kurt replies.

Spill it, Nightcrawler, Rouge says, dropping cross-legged on a flat section of rooftop.

**You sound like Ororo.** Kurt laughs before settling into a crouch, tail resting on his lap. ** I think that she has another man's heart.** Kurt's face turns melancholy. **She may even be having an affair for all I know,** he says quietly.

Rogue regarded the blue mutant for a moment before bursting into laughter.

**You are kidding right? Storm? With who?** She is silenced by Kurt's pained expression. Her mind races to the correct conclusion. **Oh my God. It's my fault isn't it? You think it's Logan, don't you? **

**The first thing that he said when he woke up was Storm's name.**

**In German?** Rogue interrupts, expectantly.

Kurt nods miserably.

Rogue exhales the breath she'd been holding. ** That was me. Kurt, how much do you know about my mutation? **

**I know that you absorb people, and can kill them that way,** Kurt replies.

Rogue nods her head. **It's a little different with Logan. He can heal somewhat while I am ...well, while my mutation kicks in. For some reason I can trade information with him. The only reason that we think Logan can speak German at all is because of me.**

**But why call out for Ororo? It was the very first thing that he said.**

**That is my fault, too,** Rogue answers, quietly playing with the seam on her gloves. **After Logan left, Miss Munroe would come and check on me whenever I had a partially vicious nightmare. **

**„Ah,"** Kurt says, his eyes alight with a sense of relief. **And because Herr Logan still had you in his head... **

**He wanted my preferred form of comfort. Unfortunately, it just happens to be your girl.** Rogue smiles.

**I need to find her,** Kurt says, standing quickly.

**Thank you, Rogue,** the blue mutant says, pulling the young girl to her feet and crushing her in a hug.

**It's okay. Just do me a favor?** Rogue asks quickly as Kurt releases her from his grasp.

**Anything,** he replies.

**Take me with you**.

Kurt gives Rogue a puzzled look.

**If you bamf without me,** Rogue explaines, „ ** I have to try and get off the roof. It could take me hours to climb down from here—that is, if gravity doesn't take over and I fall.**

**I hadn't thought about that,** Kurt replies, offering a shy, fang-toothed grin. Wrapping his arms around her, they disappear into the night, leaving an indigo smoke cloud in their wake.

--

Ororo Munroe rounds the corner of the hallway and inhales the familiar scent of brimstone. With a ruminating sigh and knowing smile, she makes her way into the kitchen, expecting to find her spade-tailed lover there. Instead, she finds Logan sitting at the bar, with his back to her and a graveyard of empty beer bottles in front of him.

"Ah, well, now I know where Molson goes to die," Ororo laughs, opening the refrigerator door, ignoring the glare and grunt Logan offers in response.

"Have you eaten or are you going for a liquid dinner?" she says.

"I'm trying to catch up," Logan says gruffly, scratching at the scalp under his coal-black hair. "I missed my morning beer, and I've been mostly dead all day. So yeah, I'm doing well with the beer, thank you very much."

"Are you sure? I am making couscous," Storm offers in a singsong voice, waving the box of grain in front of Logan's face.

"All you eat is twigs and bark," Logan replies, turning his nose at the box.

Storm smiles. "I am a vegetarian, but I can be persuaded to broil the slab of venison you brought back to the mansion last week."

Logan offers Ororo his best puppy-dog pout, eliciting a riotous laugh in response.

"Fine, fine, I will make it for you," Ororo says, panting to catch her breath from laughing so hard. "I could never deny a face such as that."

"I always could charm the ladies," Logan says, offering a sly grin before returning his focus to the half-empty bottle on the counter. Ororo turns and digs in the freezer, looking for the white butcher paper that she had wrapped the slab of meat in last week. "Where did you get this from?" she asks.

"Hunted it," Logan answers.

"I thought hunting season was in the fall," the woman replies confused, laying the meat on the counter before unwrapping it.

"Only if you intend on using a gun. Didn't seem sporting, somehow," Logan grins as Storm unwraps the package, revealing a four-inch thick steak with three perfect slits in it, knuckle-width apart.

"I see," Storm replies, somewhat repulsed. She places the frozen steak on a broiler pan and slides it into the oven. Then she returns to the freezer for the frozen treasure she saw only moments before. Within moments, her long fingers wrap around a carton of ice cream. After grabbing chocolate syrup from the refrigerator and a spoon from a drawer, she eases into a bar stool next to Logan, pushing bottles out of her way before placing the ice cream on the countertop and drizzling chocolate over her ice cream. Logan can smell the excitement in the air around Ororo, as palpable as ozone after a summer thunderstorm. He watches as she drags the spoon across the icy terrain of the carton. He is caught in rapt attention as she pulls the spoon up to her luscious brown lips, and watches as her tongue embraces the ice cream, her mouth taking in the bowl of the spoon, her lips closing around the stem, her cheeks drawing in as she sucks away the sweet confection. Lost in his revelry, Logan catches two crystal-blue eyes glaring at him.

"Spill it, Wolverine," Ororo says sharply.

"I'm sorry, were you saying something?" Logan asks, his eyes wide. Never before had he wanted to be a spoon, but then again there was a first time for everything.

"Please keep your mind out of the gutter, Logan," Storm says warningly.

"Hey, a guy can try, can't he?" Logan says, flashing a disarming smirk. Storm rolls her eyes. "There's nothing wrong," Logan says, returning his attention to the bottle in his hand.

"Oh, right. And this case of beer committed suicide right in front of you for no good reason."

_It's Monday. A case of beer was destined to die,_ Logan replies dryly as Kitty Pryde rounds the corner.

_I guess that is fair._ Storm answers. _ But you, Logan, are moping. Do not tell me that it is nothing._

_I broke the Danger Room again._ Logan grins, sarcastically._ I'm afraid that the Professor is going to be mad at me._

_Do not give me that crap,_ Storm laughs. _What is it with men today?_

_Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise with the hunk of burning elf love?_ Logan says, wiggling his eyebrows wickedly and earning a slap on the arm for his trouble.

_I am serious. Something is really upsetting Kurt, and he will not stop praying long enough for me to try and figure out what it is,_ Ororo sighs, resting her chin in her hand and watching two more students—Amara Aquilla and Roberto DaCosta—join Kitty in the hunt for junk food.

Logan gives a rough chuckle and rubs large circles into Storm's back. I think that I may be to blame.

Ororo whips around on him, sending white hair flying in all directions. Feeling the sudden gust of wind from Storm's direction, the kids turn to watch the scene being played out at the bar.

_What did you do, Wolverine?_ an angry Ororo asks, her eyes beginning to cloud over. A slight rumble in the distance accentuates her words, and makes the kids jump.

Calm down, Goddess. I didn't do it on purpose, Logan begins as Ororo's eyes narrow. _ Kurt was the first person there when I woke up this afternoon. I had a Rogue memory. _

_Why would that upset Kurt?_ Ororo asks.

_The first thing that I said was... your name._ Logan pauses, waiting for the lightning strike. _ In German._

The three junior mutants wince. They can't understand the conversation, but they can tell by the tone of their voices—and the static prickle in the hairs on the back of their necks—that Miss Munroe is about to pass judgment on whatever Mr. Logan has just told her.

Suddenly, Ororo bursts into gails of laughter. The atmosphere loses its electrical charge. The kids breathe a collective sigh of relief and return to their foraging. _Goddess. You are kidding me, right? That is what is bothering Kurt?_ She stops and looks at him. _ That is what is bothering you, as well. _

_Maybe a little_. Logan says quietly, again offering Ororo a hangdog expression and looking longingly at the oven. His nose tells him that his dinner is done, and the animal inside him is suddenly very comfortable on his cozy little barstool.

Ororo sighs and gets up to turn off the oven. Her eyes search for an oven mitt, but finds that the kids have confiscated all the oven mitts in the kitchen to help them grip the various toaster goodies they are preparing. Storm turns around and shrugs at Logan, who gets up with a grunt. Ororo hops up on the counter beside the oven as Logan throws open the door and reaches into the broiler. The pan sears his flesh before he drops it on the stovetop with a clatter.

Storm reaches in the cabinet behind her, producing a plate and offering it to Logan. With the heel of her boot, Ororo hooks the drawer handle and pulls it out before reaching down and producing a fork and a knife.

Logan sniffs in mock annoyance._ Show off._

"Yoga." Ororo replies. _ It bothers you that the Rogue in you wanted comfort from me, does it not? _

She used to want me. Logan says, staring absently at his hand as it heals. You left, Logan.

_Christ, I was only gone a month. It's not like I never talked to her while I was gone._

_A month is a very long time for a seventeen-year-old girl with horrific nightmares that do not belong to her._ Ororo says softly.

_My nightmares faded in a week. She told me so._ Logan retorts, spearing the meat with a fork and dropping it on his plate.

Ororo rolls her eyes. _Yes, your nightmares faded in a week. She still gets Magneto's a month and a half later. She will get yours again. And now, goddess knows what Remy has been through living on the streets. _

Logan sniffs. _That swamp rat is trouble._ Ororo rolls her eyes at the entire male species.

The kids walk towards the hallway, having finished their junk food feast. Kitty walks over to the pair of older mutants.

"Um, Miss Munroe, can I have some of your ice cream in the freezer?"

_Sure. Take the ice cream on the counter_. Ororo starts, suddenly noticing the blank stare on Kitty's face.

"Oh, I am sorry, Kitten. Yes, take the ice cream on the counter."

"Thanks, Miss Munroe." Kitty says, grabbing the container on the counter.

**Find her, Kurt. Knowing Miss Munroe, she is probably worried about you**. Rogue says, rubbing wide circles into Nightcrawler's back. It surprises her slightly that one moment she was perched on the roof like some oversized bird and now she is in the same hallway she de-materialized from twenty minutes before. ::Everybody has a better mutation than I do,:: she thinks with a pout.

**You are probably right. Do you need the homework assignment?** Kurt asks, changing the subject in case anyone else knows languages that he is not aware of.

**Not yet, but I will get it from Jubilee.** Rogue answers with a grin. **Go find her.**

**I'm going. Thank you, Rogue,** Kurt replies before disappearing in a haze of sulphuric smoke.

**Hello, guys**, Rogue replies finally feeling like her old self as she passes her three classmates with a wave and turns a corner.

"Doesn't anyone speak English in this damn school?" Kitty asks, rolling her eyes.

"Non se posso aiutarlo." Not if I can help it, Amara answers with a mischievous grin.

"Segundo I isso." I second that, Roberto replies, taking Amara's hand in his own.

"I'm going to go catch the second half of the Cubs game," Kitty replies exasperatedly.

"I think they were losing, the last time I saw." Bobby Drake says, coming up the hall towards them. Kitty feels her heart flutter a little. Bobby Drake, a devoted Red Sox fan, knew not only that the Cubs were playing but also had at least seen enough of the game to know that they were loosing. Admittedly, it would be much better if they were at least tied, if not winning, but surely he had been thinking about her. She is the only Cubs fan in the entire mansion.

"Has anyone seen Rogue?" Bobby asks.

"Story of my life... Goddamn goat..." Kitty fumes as she opens the door to her dorm room.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Well here it is Ladies and X-Men, Good Day and Welcome to Chapter 4. I decided that since no one was really confused by the language changes that I would keep them around. It's not as prevalent in this chapter but it still is there for your sadistic pleasure. Well as always, X-Men: Not mine. Money: None. Stan: God. Joe: Keeper of the Keys.

Please review it really keeps me going...and thank you for your support. :) 

Rogue pads down the hallway, her bare feet sinking into the ridiculously plush carpet. Just coming from the shower, a little voice in the back of her head tells her that it is dangerous to have this much skin showing. 

::God::, she thinks, ::Only I can consider myself naked dressed in jeans, a tank top and gloves that cover my elbows in the summer::.

She allows herself a rough chuckle reminiscent of Logan's as the younger men in her head scramble to the surface. She can nearly see Magneto, Cyclops and Wolverine standing back laughing at the exuberance of youth. 

::Did she say she was naked?:: she can nearly hear St. John Allardyce ask excitedly.

::Where is a mirror when you need one, eh, _mon ami_?:: Remy LeBeau sighs.

::Calm down, gentlemen::, comes Scott's smooth amused voice.

Rogue sighs loudly, and is surprised that it comes out in an icy puff. She is even more surprised when she turns into the gym and the water on her feet stick her to the floor. Looking up from her icebound feet, she sees Bobby Drake punching a bag as hard as he can. She watches his muscles clench and release each time his wrapped fist connects with the bag under the thin layer of ice glazing his upper body. She allows herself a moment to watch, and she wonders if Logan looked like this when he was young. Despite Logan's overprotectiveness and Bobby's need to compete for Rouge's attention, they had formed a somewhat close, uneasy friendship. In fact, she knows that is the exact way the Logan wrapped his fists when he fought in a cage fight. The silence she keeps around her is punctuated with the sounds of sharp jabs connecting with leather accented against angry intakes of air and grunts of force. With Logan's nose, she does not miss the scent of the boy's blood freezing between his knuckles.

"Something botherin' you, sugah?" she drawls.

Bobby wheels around, unaware that he had been watched. He shrugs his shoulders in defeat. He can never lie to Rogue—this is even more true now that part of his psyche is bouncing around in her head.

"He called me again," Bobby says miserably.

"John?" she asks. Bobby nods as he walks over to the bench. Straddling it, he slowly lowers his weight onto it, dropping his head into his hands.

"Is he okay?" she asks tentatively. 

An unamused laugh escapes Bobby's mouth. "Oh, he's just fucking great. Wanted to let me know that he's training every day, and he's wanted where he is. I don't even know why he called in the first place."

Rogue forcibly pulls her feet off of the still-icy floor, trying her best not to wince as she leaves some layers of her deadly skin behind, before going over to comfort her boy.

"He misses you," she replies quietly.

"Not likely," Bobby mutters through his hands. "I just wish that I could understand why he left." He looks up into her green eyes. "You know why he left, don't you? You can tell me." 

Her eyes grow somber as she gazes into Bobby's expectant, icy-blue orbs. A sad smile accompanies a slight nod of her head.

"He wanted a home," Rouge replies simply.

"He had a home. Here. With us. This is our home," Bobby says defensively, though he knows she is telling him the truth.

Rouge grins patiently. "Yeah, it is, sugah. You're right about that. I guess he wanted to be an only child." She grins as Bobby chuckles slightly.

"That does sound like him, doesn't it?"

"It sure does," she replies, walking up to stand in front of the boy. He wraps his arms around her waist, and she carefully rests her gloved arms on his bare shoulders. 

"I'm sorry, honey," Rogue says. "I should have put on more clothes before I left the bathroom." 

Bobby does not answer as he rests his head against her cotton-clad stomach.

"Why are we not going to work out?" Bobby asks quietly.

"Who says we are not going to work out?"

"Are we going to work out?"

There is a long pause. Rogue can feel the room lose the few degrees of warmth it had acquired since her arrival. 

"No, sugah. I don't think we are." 

She tightened her grip on her very first boyfriend—at least, the first boy brave enough to call her his girlfriend. 

"You need someone else, don't you?" she asks quietly, already knowing the answer. The echo of Bobby in her head is unusually quiet, and has been for some time now. She simply hoped she was wrong.

"I still need you," he starts. 

"You want someone to touch, sugah. I know how frustrated you are not to be touched at all. _Everybody needs touched._"

Bobby looks up at her. "What?"

"Just something that someone told me once." She offers a melancholy smile in lieu of an actual explanation. "It's still you, me, and practical jokes, right?" She sniffs briefly as she suppresses a fight brewing in her head between Logan and Bobby by closing her eyes for a moment and rubbing hard between her eyes.

"Always," he smiles. Standing, he presses a kiss into her hairline. "You going to be all right?" 

"You know me. I'm goin' to be just fine," she replies, stepping out of Bobby's arms and offering a weak smile.

~Rogue.~ Professor Xavier's voice intrudes into her thoughts as she watches Bobby head off to the showers.

~Yes, Professor?~ she thinks clearly, trying to push her raw emotions deep and away from the surface. Having Scott in her makes little things like this seem much more natural.

~Rouge, if you are up to it, Dr. McCoy would like to run one more test this evening.~

Rouge looks at the clock on the wall. It is quarter to eight. A weary sigh wracks her entire body, pushing her exhaustion to the forefront of her consciousness. 

~Ya'll know it's been kind of a rough day, right?~ she thinks with an amused flip of the words as she starts down the hallway, happy to reach the carpeting. As tired as she is, she knows that the tests are for her, to try to help her regain control of her isolating mutation, and when she thinks of it that way, she really cannot bring herself to say no.

~Maybe I'll see what I can do about getting you the day off tomorrow,~ Xavier responds.

~You can do that?~ she asks, climbing into the elevator.

~Yes, I think that I can make that happen. It is one of the many perks of having your name on the front gate.~ She can hear the professor chuckle. It made him sound younger than she knew that he was. Erik offers a memory of the two of them playing a prank on their literature professor at Oxford.

~That was always one of my favorite memories. Thank you.~

~It was my pleasure, Professor. Did y'all really do that?~

~Yes, I must confess that was one of my more devious ideas. I must warn you, however, that if I find a snake in my phone, I will know just who to blame it on.~ She lets out an audible chuckle as she makes her way down the clean white hall.

"Look Professor, I don't understand what is going on," Scott says, hopping on the table in Hank McCoy's lab.

"That is the root of our inquiry," Hank interjects as he attaches electrodes to Scott's bare chest. "We don't understand either." 

"By all accounts, yours included, there should have been three people unconscious today," Professor Xavier says, trying to calm Scott's temper. "We are just trying to figure out why you had enough energy to run around and throw clay disks." 

"I didn't even regain consciousness 'til three hours into Rogue playing with your…optic blasts, bub," Logan growls, leaning against the door jam, arms crossed over his chest.

"Oh, what's wrong, Wolverine? Tired of always coming in second place?" Scott asks with cold arrogance.

Logan pops his claws with a threatening _snikt_ and begins his advance towards Scott when he catches a whiff of a scent. He stops and retracts his claws without explanation. Hank, Scott, and the Professor watch in dumbstruck shock as Logan changes direction, walks over to the center bed, and turns, giving Scott a dark look before placing both palms behind him and lifting his adamantium-laden body firmly into the center of the examining table. 

Moments later, Rouge rounds the corner into the lab. Catching a glimpse of Cyclops' bare chest, she blushes girlishly, and turns setting her eyes on Logan. A wide open grin crosses her face. 

"Logan," she squeals, rushing to his opening arms. 

"Hey, kid," Logan says, enveloping her into his arms.

"I though that I had really hurt you this time," she sighs into his chest. Logan rests his chin on the top of the girl's head and gives Scott a smug, satisfied grin. ::Scooter's taken second place this time::, he thinks to himself proudly. ::She ran to me, not One-Eye. :: 

Like watching a train wreck, Scott cannot look away as Rogue moves her ear slightly so it is resting in the center of his chest. She feels her chosen headrest rumble beneath her as Logan speaks.

"Nah, kid," Logan reassures her. "It's going to take more than little old you to keep me out, darlin'." 

Were Scott's eyes not hidden behind ruby-quartz lenses, Logan would see him rolling his eyes at that comment. Scott turns his attention to the door as Remy swaggers in. 

"Jubilee said the Professor wanted to see him," Bobby says, and, catching Cyclops' glance, points a thumb towards the Cajun and gives the universal hand signal for jack-off.

"I always liked that kid," Scott thinks with a devious grin. 

"Thank you, Bobby," says the Professor with a smile.

"No problem, Professor," Bobby says, allowing his gaze to rest for a long moment on Rogue, in Logan's arms. At that moment, his heart acknowledges what his head has been telling him for weeks—she is no longer his girl. With a sigh, he turns and walks out the door of the lab, and refuses to look back until he reaches the elevator.

_Remy, I am so sorry about what happened_, Rouge starts, simultaneously slipping out of Logan's arms and into the French that she knows that he is much more comfortable with.

_Do not trouble yourself, my love. A nap afterward was a pleasent price to pay to have your hands on my body. _Remy purrs seductively as Rogue crosses over to center herself in red eyed gaze.

_You should be careful around me, Remy. That was no nap. _Rouge looks down at her hand while pulling at the skin-hugging leather gloves, relishing in the leather skimming across her skin. She looks up at the man once again. _I am dangerous_.

_Admit it, my pretty. You like that I am in you_, Remy challenges, ignoring the Professor loudly clearing his throat or the fact that a very large doctor is the only thing standing between him and a feral wild man ready to make gumbo out of the cocky Cajun. All three of them miss that fact that Scott has his right hand on his sunglasses and is fighting with himself to keep from ripping them off of his face and punching a hole through the boy.

_Ready, Dr. McCoy?_ Rogue asks, not taking her eyes away from Remy's.

_Whenever you are_, comes the answer, as everyone in the room tenses, knowing what is to come next.

Rouge brushes her bare fingers feather-lightly across the Cajun's arm. Using his own power against him, Remy grabs her shoulders and nearly upsets her balance as he pulls her closer. Within moments, Remy's face takes on a veiny texture and contorts in pain before his eyes roll back and he slumps over on the examining table. 

_Ah, dirty devil. I'll have to remember that_, Rogue says absentmindedly. 

She steps back, hugging her arms to herself and shivering. She begins to sway slightly, and Hank is right there to steady her. His bare arms are touching Rouge while he holds her close to his massive frame.

Logan is amazed once again just how tiny she is in McCoy's arms. As Logan watches, he can see the woman entity being stripped away, revealing the quiet creature inside. Inside is Marie, stripped of Magneto's bravado, Scooter's boy scout bullshit, John's jealousy, and his own feral nature. For a moment his heart clamps down hard in his chest—it has a familiar feeling. He has felt this pain before, but cannot recall its cause. A thought of a rose crosses his mind in an instant, and is gone, and his attention is once again enraptured in Rouge's form, now standing on her own two feet with Hank's aid.

"Dr. McCoy?" Rogue questions, her voice trembling slightly.

"You forget, my dear, that I'm hiding rather dense fur under this holographic shell," Hank answers good-naturedly. He feels her relax considerably in his grip.

"I was waiting for all of that information to come flooding into my brain. Could you imagine? Screw falling from a plane with a kindergartener strapped to your back. I'd be haunted by microscopes," Rogue says with a small smile.

Instantly Scott feels as if ice water has drenched him from head to toe.

~Scott?~ He can feel the Professor prod his mental walls gently.

~I'm fine, Professor,~ Scott answers in a clipped tone, slipping into fearless leader mode effortlessly.

~We can do this later. You don't have to do this right now.~

Scott turns to look Xavier right in the eye. ~If we don't do this now, she will have to go though this all over again. She won't. Not on my account.~

~I respect your decision,~ Professor Xavier replies respectively.

Scott shuts down his part of the conversation abruptly, turning to Rogue, released from Hank's grip. The geneticist leans down for a slight sniff of the air surrounding the girl. Logan takes a sharp intake of air at the same time.

"Darlin', why are you bleeding?" Logan asks concerned.

"Oh, it's my feet, I think." Rogue says quietly. "Bobby was a little upset, and I kinda stuck to the floor in the gym." 

"I should bandage them, Rouge." Dr. McCoy says. Rouge nods. Hank deactivates his image inducer without warning, revealing the blue-furred, lion-like beast that was his true form.

~It's easier for him to work without the image inducer's distortion,~ the Professor explains to Rogue. ~He's still a little sensitive about it.~ 

~Are you sure we have to do this?~ she asks once more, her uncertainty evident not only in her voice but in her thought projections as well. 

~I'm afraid so. I need to make sure that Scott sleeps. I believe him to be on the mend, but he has not gotten more than two hours' sleep a night in months. He is feeling very protective of you at the moment, and I need him distracted, otherwise it will not work. It won't interfere with Hank's experiment, and it won't hurt Mr. Summers either, I promise you.~ She glances at Xavier to smile her understanding.

Rouge follows Dr. McCoy into another portion of the lab. 

"Have a seat, Marie," Hank says. Rogue obeys quietly. The professor has told her of this part of the experiment. It is the only part of the whole thing that she is unsure about.

"Scott, would you be so kind as to bring me a dressing to bind her wounds?"

"English, Hank," Scott calls back. He can hear Rogue giggle in the other room.

"I forgot the bandages," Hank calls back. "Please bring them to me." 

Scott hops off the table and crosses to the cabinet containing first aid equipment. Carrying the gauze into the other room, he stops when he hears some light purring, and the canter of Rogue's soft voice.

"So because you have fur covering your entire body, I can touch you, and as long as I don't go against the nap of your fur with anything more than fingernails, I won't absorb you?"

"That seem to be quite true, Marie," Hank softly growls out as Rogue drags her fingers up and down his throat and the tiny bit if his chest bared slightly by the two undone buttons on the collar of his white Oxford shirt.

**You are pure temptation**, Hank breathes in the perfect mix of a purr and a growl. **I want to touch you, taste you. **

**Don't you think that might just be a little inappropriate to say to a student, Dr. McCoy? **Scott says dangerously from the doorframe.

Hank looks up in perfect surprise. It hadn't been all an act. He did not know that Rouge had long fingernails in those gloves, and it had been a while since someone had rubbed his neck. ::It did feel pretty good::, Hank thought to himself, ::all things considered.:: 

**Perhaps you are right, Scott,** Hank says. In an attempt to be nonchalant, he begins to busy himself with the newly acquired bandages. **I had no idea that you spoke German.**

**I do now,** Scott answers evenly while looking at Rogue, who can do nothing but avert her eyes and blush.

"Very interesting," the Beast says, gently wrapping Rouge's red feet in white gauze. "I think that you are all done," he says to the girl as he sets the gauze roll at his side.

"Thanks, Hank," Rogue says quietly as she slides off the table and walks quickly past the two men.

Once Rouge is out of earshot, Scott turns to look Hank in the eye. "She may appear older than she is, but remember that she is still a student." He says icily.

"Who are you trying to remind, Scott? Me or you?" The doctor says as he walks past Scott to join everyone else.

Rogue walks up to Logan and stands in front of him.

"Are you sure that you are up to this, Logan?" Rogue asks with wide innocent eyes. Nightmares and sensitive hearing be damned, she was openly worried about what touching him twice in one day was going to do to him. 

"Go ahead, kid," Logan says gruffly to mask the protective swell in his chest. "It's going to take more than a little pipsqueak like to you to really hurt me." Logan smiles and leans his forehead to touch hers before whispering, "I won't let you hurt me, darlin'. I could never put you though that." 

Rogue smiles lovingly at him. She knows those words are true as he opens his mouth in a way that from anyone else would be a silent scream. ::It ain't a scream; it's a roar::, Rogue thinks. ::It's Logan. Screams aren't his style.:: 

Rogue is yanked forcibly back into reality as large furry arms wrap around her abdomen and pull her backward, finally breaking her connection to Logan. He slumps forward, nearly falling from the table, before Scott's quick reflexes stop his forward momentum. 

"Christ, is he heavy," Scott groans from the strain as he pushes Logan back and lays his frame carefully on the examining table. 

The professor gives a kindly smile. "Adamantium does have a bit of a weight to it. He must have a battleship's worth attached to him."

"I knew he was hard-headed, but this is ridiculous." Scott mutters before looking over at Rogue. 

Rogue shifts her head and cracks her neck, just as Logan does when he heals. Shoulders drawn back, she stands at her full height between Scott's knees. 

"You ready, Scooter?" she says, turning her head to the side and offering a sexy smile. "I saved the best for last, _mon ami_," she drawls, stopping a moment and looking up toward the ceiling. "Boy, that swamp rat is frisky." Rogue smiles as Scott chuckles. 

Scott and Rogue lock eyes as she reaches toward him. His hand reaches out to grab hers. He knows that he will be the very first man not related to her to hold her hand skin to skin. Her smile emits a melancholy sweetness that instantly reminds him of the last thought sent to him by Jean.

_I'm sorry_, she mouths.

_Don't be_, Scott answers, intentionally bringing every happy thought he can think of to the surface. She feels his warmth entering the pit of her belly and spreading like wildfire throughout her entire being. 

_Goodnight, beautiful_, he whispers. Her green eyes, so reminiscent of Jean's, are the last thing that he sees before a blissful onyx wipes the lab, and those eyes, from his vision.

Shaking, Rogue steps back with a single tear streaming down her face. She looks at the Professor, who is started by the sudden cold intensity in her eyes as she opens her mind wide for the telepath.

~Charles, you will tell the overgrown fur ball to leave the girl alone at least for a while. I do not know how much more she can take. Besides, it is getting crowded in here, old friend.~

Xavier blinks in surprise at Rogue.

"If you need me to be a guinea pig anymore, bub, I'll be in the Danger Room. Don't come looking for me." The young girl with Remy's bravado, Scott's clip efficiency, Logan's attitude, and Erik's warning turns and pads out of the lab, offering the muffled sound of skin and gauze on marble as a goodbye.

A/N: I just want to thank everybody who has taken the time to review. It means a lot to me. Ya'll are the best. The X-men are still not mine...I just checked. *looks over at Stan who is shaking his head no.* Please enjoy and review anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

A pair of unique eyes—black corneas, crimson irises—flutter open to stare at an overly cleaned room. Even the ceiling is excruciatingly spotless. ::We are definitely not in the bayou anymore, homme::, Remy thinks to himself as he pulls himself up into a sitting position and quietly surveys the darkened medical room. ::I think I've spent enough time on my back in this room to last a lifetime::, Remy thinks with a smirk as he slides silently off the table. ::Let's see what else is here to play with.::

Quietly making his way down the hall, he hears a colorful stream of words spoken with a lilting Southern tongue. Following her words around the corner into a large circular room, he stops at the door, leaning on the frame. There in the cavernous room fighting men in masks is the only girl to land him on his back more than once. 

He watches her land punch after punch and kick after kick with wicked accuracy. He looks around the room and sees ledges and perches around the room. Rogue dodges a spinning metal disk and uses her legs to sweep her masked opponent off its feet. Remy quickly jumps and climbs on to the nearest perch to avoid the disk. There he has a better view of the entire room, and decides to climb up to the next highest block. There he can see every move, every kick, every jump, every dodge, every optic blast. 

He watches her move and stretch, and is a little amazed at the fact that she is still barefoot, with the exception of white gauze on her feet. He watches her misjudge a punch thrown from her right side, and can hear the sound of metal slamming into flesh and bone, knocking to her knees and down to the floor. He winces at the sickening sound. 

Remy's whole body tenses, ready to leap down to the floor below, when the resilient girl hops up to her feet and kicks the robot square in the chest plate, knocking it backwards onto the floor.

Pyro training complete. Mission a success, says the room. 

Panting slightly, still rattled from the punch, Rogue leans down to rest her palms on the tops of her knees. Looking up at the clock, she realizes that it has been nearly six hours since she nearly absorbed Logan. She is not healing as well as she would like, this time. This landed punch is going to leave a mark. ::Damn,:: she thought, spitting a mouthful of blood on to the floor.

The sound of one person clapping brings her out of her head.

"You look beautiful when you're all sweaty, chere," Remy drawls from his perch.

"I ain't in the mood, swamp rat," Rogue calls over her shoulder as she walks over to her bottle of water, taking a long gulp.

"You wound me, chere," Remy says with false pain before resting his chin on his knee with a grin.

"Don't give me that crap. I have you in my head. I know how you think," Rogue answers while stretching her body, causing her tank top to inch up her rib cage.

"There's more to me than meets the eye," Remy retorts confidently.

"Now that I believe to be true," Rogue flirts, looking into the crimson and black eyes of the Cajun. "You might want to think about moving, darlin'. I would hate for you to get hurt."

Remy laughs a little at that. "I can take care of myself, chere. But I love your concern for my well being."

"Suit yourself. Just be prepared to play if you're fixing to stick around. It's Scott's program."

Remy blows her a kiss as an answer. Rogue just smirks as she cracks her neck and starts the program.

She giggles at Remy's shocked expression as his high metal perch quickly slides back into the smooth wall. That giggle quickly turns to awe as she watches the nimble man twist and turn his frame in the air before landing on his feet, almost tucked in a ball. He looks up with a rakish grin. 

"Duck, chere," he says lightly.

Rogue looks at Remy with a confused expression. Remy's eyes grow wide for a moment. There is no way that he can charge and toss a card fast enough to keep the block to hitting Rogue's head. He looks into her eyes and sees a playful expression. She blows him a kiss before tucking her body into a ball, springing up, vaulting herself off the moving block, and twisting her body to land on the top of one of the mechanical arms protruding from the wall.

"Are you here to play or are you here to watch, Gumbo?" she taunts from her height advantage.

"How would you want me to answer that?" Remy calls up to her.

"How do you want to answer it?" she retorts, waiting with cold anticipation until the arms move closer to each other. As they do, she leaps easily from one to another, making her way around the room before jumping easily to the floor, opening a smooth door and disappearing into it.

"You will have to ask me nicely," Remy, calls calmly walking toward the still open trap door.

The girl reemerges with a large staff and gets a silent shiver at the look in Remy's eyes. The Remy in her head is extremely animated. ::This is a game,:: Rogue thinks to herself. ::A gambit he cannot resist. The prize is yet to be determined.:: She smiles. ::Those are the best kind::, she thinks.

She twirls the staff in her hand before tossing it to the man towering above her. 

"Play with me, Cajun," she says, daring him.

"With pleasure," he answers.

Two hours later the room makes another announcement: Cyclops training complete. Mission a success.

Both students walk over to the water bottle sitting by the door. "You ain't half bad, Remy," Rouge says, dropping her body onto the floor. "Where did you learn to jump like that?"

Remy smiles. "I got a lot of practice hoping rooftops to get away from the police." The girl laughs beside him, and he studies her for a time before asking, "What is your name, chere?"

She draws her knees protectively into her chest. "Rogue," she answers.

"What is your name, Rogue?" Remy asks patiently.

She pauses while her heart beats hard in her chest. "Why should I answer that?" she asks quietly.

"You don't have to. I just figure that since you tell me that you have me in your head, that probably means that you know a lot about me. I figured that it was only fair that I should know your name."

"Marie," she answers after a time.

"I like it."

"Thank you," she replies softly.

Remy reaches out to brush the hair out of her face. She flinches. 

"Please don't touch me," she whispers hoarsely. 

"I'm sorry," Remy says, concern marking his features. "You're hurt." 

"I'll be fine," she replies.

"It's swollen and purple."

"It doesn't hurt." 

"Is that so?" Remy asks, exasperated. He takes Rouge's gloved hand and gently presses it to her own skin. A sharp intake of air is her response.

"Maybe it's a little sore," she concedes. 

"You need ice," Remy declares, pulling himself to his feet and offering his hand as assistance to Marie. "There has to be some in the kitchen. I'm hungry anyway."

Marie smiles. "Then you should get something to eat." She takes his offered hand and he lifts her to him, pulling her body close to his. Even through his long trench coat, he can feel every curve and contour of her body caressing his. He looks down at her. Watching her breath catch behind her breasts, he feels a warmth spread below his belly. 

"Are you offering?" Remy says with a sly grin.

Rogue drags a supple leather gloved hand across his face as his hand rests against her back, closing whatever fraction of a gap there was. ::God, I wish,:: she thinks. 

"Not tonight," she answers, regret evident in two words.

"Then I shall be patient," Remy says, releasing her and stepping back. "Sweet dreams, chere," he says before turning and walking out the door.

"Only if you're in them," she whispers.

She makes her way to a darkened room down the hall. Silently she enters and lays down on the floor. Within moments, she is asleep.

The morning sunlight coaxes Ororo's eyes open. Taking a deep breath, she feels her lover's tail twitch against her inner thigh. She can only smile.

Her long fingers trace the intricate patterns along the flat spade of his tail. She laughs lightly as she feels the tail shiver, and hears a certain blue-skinned German moan in his sleep. The sound makes her flush all over.

Kurt's tail unwinds itself from around her leg as she levitates herself lightly from the bed. It is the most strenuous thing she has ever done with her powers, as it takes the most control. Storm cannot fly; she can only make the atmosphere do as she willed, and ride the currents of the winds she summons.

She drops easily on the floor in the middle of her attic and walks over to her closet. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, she sighs as she puts her hair into a ponytail.

::Goddess, it is hot already,:: she thinks, wiping a fine sheen of sweat from her throat.

She quietly makes her way to her still-sleeping lover and kisses the very point of one blue ear lovingly, and smiles at the barely audible sigh from his lips. Ororo walks across the room to the French doors, opening them onto her balcony. She summons a wind to easily drop her onto the lush green lawn below, to begin her short, early morning walk to her greenhouse. As she opens the door, the small structure instantly fills with fog and clouds. 

As a mist of rain begins to gently soak the inside of the structure, Ororo pulls her white locks from the confines of her ponytail, shaking her hair gently into a billowing cascade down her back. Slowly she rubs her palm against the skin of her stomach, inching her gray t-shirt higher, allowing her mind to wander back to the warm body still occupying her bed. Checking to be sure that the inside of the greenhouse was sufficiently obstructed from an outside view, her arms form an X across her chest as both hands tug at the hem of her shirt. Slowly she lifts her shirt higher and higher up her body when a heavy hand clamps down hard on her ankle.

"You may not want to do that, darlin'," a husky voice says from below her. Ororo screams. Logan rolls to his right a split second before a bolt of lightning explodes on the ground right where the center of his chest had just laid.

"Logan! What in the blessed name of the Goddess are you doing here?" Ororo pants, her opal-colored eyes clearing, revealing their true cerulean color.

"Couldn't sleep." Logan replies. "Nightmare. Well, to me at least."

"Was it an actual Marie dream?" 

The man nods as she laughs. "Logan, how bad could it have been?"

"I know what it's like to have the Popsicle's tongue in my mouth. Shit like that would keep you up at night, too," Logan says, sitting up on the ground. Ororo rests in a crouch so reminiscent of Kurt's that it almost makes him laugh. 

"You should have come and awoken me. I would have sat up with you." Ororo offers her hand to him and he accepts it, both standing at the same time.

"Nah. I figured the elf was with you. I didn't want to make any more trouble for you." Logan grins knowingly. "I was right." 

"Do you not think that is a bit presumptuous, Wolverine?" Ororo says, turning to busy herself with a flat of seedlings.

Logan walks right up behind her. "Not at all, Goddess. His scent is all over you, and that little display of hormones from earlier kinda gave it away. Unless you were thinking of yours truly." 

Storm laughs, turning to look at Logan. "Why are you here?" She asks exasperated. "Are you not afraid you are going to rust?"

"Very funny, darlin'." 

"Here," Ororo says tossing a bag that hits him square in the chest. "Make yourself useful. Plant these in that dirt over there." She says pointing to the far end of the greenhouse. Logan takes the bag and walks over to the dirt.

_SNIKT. _Logan plunges his claws into the earth repeatedly, in neat rows. Carefully, he inserts a seed into each hole before meticulously recovering the holes. 

"Clever," Ororo comments.

Logan looks at her with a wicked grin. "I wouldn't want to get dirt under my fingernails."

Ororo laughs. "Why are you here?"

"Has anyone told you that you can sound like a damn broken record?" Logan says, avoiding the question.

"I only repeat the important questions." Ororo replies.

"I just didn't want to be inside."

"You were inside." 

"It's not the same, darlin'. Usually, I can work it out by kicking some ass in the Danger Room."

"Why did you choose not to?" Ororo asks, moving her hand in a gentle sweep, causing the rain to land harder, while still listening intently.

"Well, there was already a girl in it. The room was locked down and it sounded like Marie was tearing the room apart. She was running my program."

"Makes sense to me," Ororo answers.

"Then I just wanted to be outside. I thought about hunting, but I can't hear trouble from out in the woods, and with One-Eye out of commission, I figured it was better if I stayed around for a bit."

"You are not thinking of leaving us again, are you?" She questions

"Nah, not for a while yet. I ain't makin' promises, mind you."

"Fair enough." Ororo concedes.

"I came out here and was thinking about what you were saying about Marie earlier in the kitchen. It's just wrong that this girl, a little wisp of a thing has to go through all of this shit. I just kinda fell asleep until you started dripping on me." 

Ororo is quiet for a moment. "Do you not realize that you contradicted yourself in that whole pity party of yours?" she says, meeting Logan's eyes with a cool stare. Logan looks at her confused. 

"In one breath, you tell me that she is tearing up your training program, locked down in the Danger Room, and in the next you imply that she is helpless. She is not some fragile girl, Logan. If she was, she would not have been in the bar in Laughlin City for you to find. Step back and look at her. You may find a fierce woman where you once saw a girl who needed your protection."

"Are you trying to tell me that my Marie doesn't need me anymore?"

Ororo smiles. "She will always need you, Logan, but maybe not in the same way she once did."

Logan says nothing. Ororo looks up at the sky through her greenhouse window. "It's getting late. I have a class to teach." Ororo makes her way to the door.

"Thanks, Storm." Logan says as she exits through the door.

"Anytime."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This is going to be kind of a long author's note so feel free to skip it...This is an extra long chapter because I am going fly out of town for work and won't be near a computer for a bit so enjoy. Please review and tell me what you think, I am a review slut so please feed my obsession. :) I don't own the X-Men...people with lots of money and better lawyers do, so don't go running to Marvel. 

Waking from the first deep sleep he'd had in weeks, Scott Summers stretches out his limbs and lets out a loud yawn. Moving his hand to his face, he checks to make sure his ruby quartz glasses are still firmly on his face before opening his eyes. Rolling over on his side, he catches a glance at the frail female form lying in a heap on the floor beside him. 

"Rogue?"

Rogue lays still on the tile floor, the silver bangs of her hair spread across her face. Scott watches her chest for a moment. She does not appear to be breathing. In a panic, Scott scrambles to the floor next to her. He reaches for the girl's gloved arm, feeling at her wrist for a pulse. Satisfied that she is still alive, he gathers the girl's form up in his arms to set her on the examining table.

As Scott lifts Rogue off the floor, his bare forearm brushes the skin of her shoulder. Almost immediately, Scott feels as if his very life is being sucked out of his body. His skin grows tight and veined as Rogue's powers take effect. Fading into unconsciousness, Scott falls forward, dropping Rogue on her back. The unconscious girl does not stir. Scott lands with his cheek against the nape of Rogue's neck, and his absorption continues.

~*~

"I am totally going to fail astronomy," Kitty Pryde moans as she and Jubilation Lee walk into Professor Xavier's office for class.

"You're not the only one, chica," Jubilee says, chomping madly at the gum in her mouth. "I'm telling you, we need to start a study group. Like, tonight."

"So, what, we ask the Professor if he'll teach us for another hour every night until the midterm?" Kitty says as the two girls sit in their desks.

"No, we get the next best thing," Jubilee says. "Bob-by," she taunted in a sing-song whisper. 

"What's that all about? You're acting like I like him or something."

"Girl, please," Jubilee says in a hushed tone. "You've been crushing hard on Bobby Drake ever since he and Rogue hooked up. And here I thought you were into the farmboy over there." She casts a glance across the room at Peter Rasputin, who is sketching in his notebook.

"I do not like Bobby!" Kitty says in a furtive whisper. 

"You'd better move to Egypt, 'cuz you're the queen of denial," Jubilee says, still watching Peter. Feeling the gaze on him, Peter looks over at Jubilee, who is blowing a bubble with her gum. Jubilee winks at him as the bubble bursts. The shy Russian's face blushes as he meekly turns his gaze back to his sketchpad.

"Okay, fine, I do," Kitty says with a resigned sigh. "But what does that have to do with astronomy?"

"Bobby's got the best grades in the class," Jubilee says. "So, like, go over to Vanilla Ice over there and use your feminine wiles to persuade him to, y'know, help us out." 

The door to the hallway opens, and Remy Lebeau strides into the room like he owns the joint. Kitty and Jubilee watch Remy's every step as he takes a seat behind Peter. Amara Aquilla slides into the seat behind Kitty, watching the Cajun as well.

"So that's the new guy, huh?" says Amara. Neither Kitty nor Jubilee answer; their attention is transfixed on the dark-eyed scoundrel across the room. The bubble Jubilee was blowing sags limply from her mouth.

The door opens again, and Professor Xavier wheels himself into the room, stopping at Jubilee's desk.

"Miss Lee, what have I told you about gum-chewing in my class?"

"Sorry, Professor," Jubilee says, motioning to take the gum out of her mouth as the Professor proceeds to his desk.

"And please, Miss Lee, do not stick it to the underside of the desk, or you'll have to scrape it off," the Professor says, turning to face the class. "Now then, class, I would like to introduce you to our new student..."

Professor Xavier suddenly reaches his hand to his head, closing his eyes tight in concentration.

"There's an emergency in the medlab," he says after a moment. "Since we are headed to the danger room today to look at certain constellations on the planetarium screen, you may follow me, and I will join you in the danger room directly."

As the students file out of the office behind him, the Professor reaches out with his telepathy to the mind of Dr. Hank McCoy. He allows himself a wry smile when he finds the doctor in his upstairs quarters, bathing his furry blue form in a giant bubble bath.

~Hank? My apologies for interrupting your bath, but there's an emergency in the medlab with Scott and Rogue. Please meet me there immediately. I have students with me, so I will meet you as soon as I set up the danger room for them.~ Xavier feels a shock of pain in Hank's mind. ~Hank?~ 

~My apologies for the unintentional shock treatment, Professor,~ Hank's thoughts answer. ~In my rush to spring into action, I managed to drop my image inducer on the floor and crush it beneath my foot. I am on my way now, however-- a bouncing, pouncing ball of dripping wet fur careening towards the sublevels with feline grace and speed.~ 

~Excellent,~ the Professor says. ~Just mind the...~ 

The class stops in its tracks as the sound of breaking pottery echoes from upstairs.

~The Ming vase at the top of the stairs~_,_ the Professor thinks, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. The students duck as the Beast pings off the stairway walls and bounds for the elevator.

"Hot coffee, coming through!" screams Dr. McCoy as the elevator door opens. With a tumble and a spin, he lands in the elevator, facing the startled students and a stunned Professor Xavier. He bows with a flourish as the doors close. Peter turns to Bobby and mouths, "Hot coffee?" Bobby just shrugs.

A few moments later, as the elevator returns to the main floor, Professor Xavier watches as all of his students entered the elevator car--except one. He catches a feeling of Remy's thoughts. He is outside, with one motive in his mind: ::Femme's in trouble. Get the Wolverine man.::

~*~

Hank arrives at the door to the medlab and bounds inside. He finds Scott and Rogue on the floor, both their bodies convulsing wildly. With one arm sweep, Hank pulls Scott away from Rogue and sets him sitting against an examining table. He then grabs up Rogue in his arms and lays her on a table on the other side of the room. Looking back, he sees that Scott's skin has returned to normal, and his seizure has subsided.

~Professor, I'm in the medlab,~ he thinks, projecting openly so Professor Xavier can receive him. ~I found Scott and young Rogue on the floor, unconscious, in skin-to-skin contact, and in shock. Mr. Summers appears to be recovering, but the young lady has yet to stop convulsing.~ 

~I'm leading my students past you now,~ replies Xavier. ~Do you need any immediate help?~

~I need to sedate her in order to stabilize her condition,~ thinks Hank. ~If you have someone who can hold the girl down, it would expedite the treatment._~_

Professor Xavier enters the medlab; his students gather at the doorway. Bobby pushes his way to the front of the group when he sees who Dr. McCoy has on the table.

"Rogue!" he shouts, rushing into the room to Rogue's side. 

"Damn," says Kitty quietly, grasping the doorframe. Jubilee gives her a questionable glare.

"I must ask you to stand away, young master Drake," says the Beast, scrambling around the table to prepare an IV bag. "This is a delicate matter."

"Peter," orders Xavier, "Would you and Mr. Drake please put on some gloves and help Dr. McCoy?" 

"Ah, _tovarisch Piotr,_" says Dr. McCoy. "Please, gentlemen, restrain her while I start this IV. _Spaseeba._" He tosses a pair of latex gloves to Peter and Bobby, who both take a side and hold Rogue down while Dr. McCoy prepares the sedative.

"Mr. DaCosta," says the Professor, "Could you put Mr. Summers on the other table, please?"

"Sure thing, Professor," says Roberto DaCosta. His dark brown skin grows black as a fiery aura surrounds him. With his solar-powered strength, the young mutant called Sunspot lifts Scott off the ground and sets him gently on the table. 

The Professor wheels himself over to Scott's table and places his hands across the crown of Scott's head, to focus his telepathic powers on scanning Scott's mind. On the other side of the room, the Beast jams the IV needle into Rogue's arm and starts the tranquilizer drip. As Rogue's convulsions ease, the boys let go of her limbs. 

"Rogue is stabilizing, Professor," says Dr. McCoy, hooking the girl up to the heart rate monitor. The Professor pushes his wheelchair across the room to Rogue's bed and tries to scan her mind.

"She's becoming conscious again," Xavier announces. "Or, at least, her mind is becoming active." 

Rogue, can you hear my thoughts? Xavier says mentally, reaching for the spark of psyche he has discovered. 

~Charles_?~ _answers a familiar male voice from the girl's subconscious.

~Erik? Is that you I hear? ~

~Charles, we're in a rather deep well here, so to speak. If you can throw us a rope, I can bring your pupil to the surface.~

"Peter," Xavier says quietly, "Armor up."

With a crackle of static energy and a series of soft clinking sounds, the towering Russian changes from flesh and blood to gleaming steel.

"Wow." Jubilee whispers "Talk about your buns of steel." Kitty and Amara both roll their eyes at the same time. 

"Sometimes, you have to let the easy ones go," Amara whispers as Kitty smacks the dark-haired girl on her arm.

"Peter, put your hand on Rogue's forehead," Professor Xavier says. Peter hesitates and looks at the Professor, confused. 

"It will be fine," the Professor adds. "She is in too much shock to absorb you and someone inside of her needs a little incentive, so to speak."

"Peter, if you start to feel a pull, you must remove your hand immediately, do you understand?" Dr. McCoy says warningly.

"I understand, Doctor." Peter says before placing a heavy hand on the girl's forehead. 

~An organic metal man. How droll,~ says Magneto's psyche; Xavier imagines the smug smirk the real Magneto would wear, had he said that line. 

~Your student is back at the surface, Charles,~ says Magneto. ~I leave her in your capable hands. A small word of warning, however: Don't let her open her eyes.~ 

"Hank, quick," the Professor orders. "Grab the spare set of Scott's glasses." 

"Professor?" Rogue croaks. 

"Looks like I got here just in time," exclaims a gruff voice from the doorway. Logan rushes through to Rogue's bedside, followed by Remy.

"Logan? That you?" Rogue pleads, her voice growing with panic. "Professor, my eyes hurt..."

"Rogue, keep your eyes closed tight. You may have absorbed too much of Cyclops' power."

"Ah'm scared," Rogue says. "Ah felt like Magneto was holding me. Did ah hear Logan?"

"I'm right here, darlin'," Logan says in a calming voice, pulling leather gloves from his back pocket. Dr. McCoy returns with the spare glasses.

"Rogue," says Dr. McCoy as he lowers the glasses onto Rogue's face, "do not open your eyes until I give you the word. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," says Rogue. The glasses fit loosely around Rogue's ears, and heavy on the bridge of her nose.

"We will need to procure a band of some sort," Dr. McCoy says, "to keep them from slipping off completely, but until then, you should be fine. You can open your eyes now."

Rogue sits up on the table and looks around. "Everything's red," she says. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?" asks the Professor.

"Ah'd just finished workin' out in the danger room with the Cajun over there, and I was walking along. Ah must've stumbled in here and blacked out. Next thing ah know, ah feel like someone's carryin' me, and ah hear Magneto talking to you, Professor. Then ah wake up, and ah'm lookin' through rose-colored glasses."

"My hypothesis," says the Beast, placing a pair of bifocals on his snout, "is that your body shut down from the shock of absorbing so much psychic energy in one day."

"So your using her as a lab rat yesterday caused it?" Logan says lightly stroking Marie's hair.

"It is conceivable," says Dr. McCoy. 

"I hadn't sent for you, Logan," says the Professor. 

"Gumbo over there told me to come runnin'," Logan says, pointing a thumb at Remy. "I just followed the scent of bubble gum and wet cat fur." Logan scrunches up his nose in obvious disgust.

Every conscious head turns in Hank's direction. "I'll have you know that particular bubble bath has several non-matting properties..." the furry doctor begins.

An anguished groan comes from the opposite table interrupting that train of thought. Scott sits up, with a bit of aid from Roberto, and looks around the room. Marie quickly slides off the table and out of Logan's reach to make her way over to Scott's side.

"How do you feel, Scott?" the Professor asks.

"Like a car ran me down," answer Scott and Rogue simultaneously. The pair look at each other incredulously.

"Oh my stars and garters," says Hank. "This is an interesting development."

"Students," says the Professor, turning to his pupils, "Thank you for your assistance. Dr. McCoy and I obviously have a new matter to which we must attend, so you all have the rest of the morning off."

As the young mutants turn to leave, Professor Xavier wheels over to Remy. "Mr. LeBeau," he says, "Thank you for getting Mr. Logan. Please stay on the grounds today; I may call you back here later."

_"Oui, Professeur,_" Remy says. He winks at Rogue. "Get well, _chère._"

Watching from the hallway, Bobby sees Rogue's girlish grin. He glares at Remy as he walks out of the medlab. 

"Easy dere, Frosty," Remy says, walking towards the danger room. "Gettin' chilly in here." Frost forms on the walls as Bobby storms off towards the elevator.

With the room devoid of extra students, the Professor and Dr. McCoy make preparations to subject Scott and Rogue to a battery of tests.

"Now wait just a damned minute, you two," Logan protests.

"Logan, please, this is important," replies Xavier sternly.

"Um, Professor? Dr. McCoy?" asks Rogue in a feeble voice. "Ah don't mean to be rude or nothin', but, um, can this wait?" 

"What's wrong, Rogue?" asks Hank.

"I'd like some breakfast," Scott and Rogue say simultaneously.

"That's eerie," Hank says aside to the Professor.

"You aren't the one doing it, Hank," Scott and Rogue say.

"I think in the best interest of everyone involved, you two should get something to eat," the Professor says. "Rogue, please stay close to Mr. Summers. If your powers go haywire, he may be your best defense."

"Come on, Rogue," Scott says. "I'll make you my specialty--a big Denver omelette with extra sausage."

"Or ah'll make it for you," Rogue says with a grateful smile.

"_Bon appetit, mes amis,_" Hank says, undoing the IV in Rogue's arm. "Just remember to be back here at noon."

As Scott and Rogue walk out of the medlab, Xavier turns to Logan. "I don't need to be a mind reader to know you don't approve of this," he says.

"This is all bullshit," answers Logan gruffly.

Xavier furrows his brow. "Logan," he says, "you and I will continue this discussion in my office in five minutes."

~*~

"Felling any better?" Scott asks Rogue as the two cook in the kitchen, side by side. They move in absolute synchronicity. 

"Ah feel better now that ah'm wearin' more clothes," says Rogue, wearing a green zip-up hoodie.

"Something's bothering you, though," Scott says, whisking eggs in a bowl.

"It's just..." Rogue stammers. "Why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be Magneto?"

"What do you mean?" Scott says.

"He tried to kill me, and now he--or at least the part of him claiming squatter's rights in my subconscious--brings me back from the brink? What is that?" 

"Well, his was the first mind the Professor could reach."

"Ah don't care, Scott. Ah hate him. Ah hate that he used me. Ah hate that he tried to kill all of us. Ah hate that Pyro left to join him. And ah hate that he's still out there, because while he is, ah have nightmares that he's gonna come here and take me back to the torch of Lady Liberty and finish the job he started."

Rogue wipes back tears from around the rim of her ruby quartz glasses. "And ah hate that after all that, the part of him in me saved my life."

Scott takes the young girl in his arms, careful not to touch her skin again or knock off her glasses. 

"No matter who saved you, you're saved," Scott says. "You're alive. And you're among friends. Family. We'll look after you."

Rogue looks up onto Scott's face. "Promise?" She says with a sniffle.

"Hey, I'll fight them all away, don't worry." Scott offers a smirk. "If Logan doesn't get to them first."

"Rogue!" Bobby yells as he, Kitty, Jubilee and Amara walk into the kitchen. Bobby dashes over to Rogue and wraps her in a tight hug.

"I got worried when I saw you on that table," Bobby says. "Are you feeling better?"

"A little," Rogue answers.

"Breakfast, anyone?" say Rogue and Scott simultaneously.

"Denver omelettes?" Amara says excitedly. "I haven't had one since Dr. Grey..."

Scott's face twists into grief for a split second.

"Oh, Mr. Summers," says Amara softly. "_Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa._"

"It's all right," Scott and Rogue answer, both crying.

"Jubes, this is, like, seriously freaking me out," Kitty whispers.

"I know," Jubilee whispers back. "As if our lives weren't _Twilight Zone_ enough." 

~*~

"Chuck, she is not going to be quarantined with the damn boy scout. I will not let that happen," Logan roars, uncaring of anyone who could hear him in the mansion, or the rest of New York, for that matter.

"I understand your concern, Logan but I assure." the Professor begins before being unceremoniously cut off mid-sentence.

"You don't get it, Wheels. It's not going to happen. I won't allow it." 

"Wolverine, I know you are concerned for the girl's well-being, but I am afraid that you have no real say in the matter," Xavier says with maddening calm.

"Like hell I don't," Logan bellows. "Marie is the closest thing to family I've got, Chuck. I let you perform tests on her like she was some sort of damn lab rat yesterday, against my better judgment. I swear that I will not let that happen again."

"That may be true, Logan, but you are not the one who has final say over what happens to the girl."

"Her name is Marie, Charles. Say it with me.Marie. She is not some experiment or some pawn in a fight for mutants. She is a girl. She is my Marie," Logan says, dripping with barely suppressed rage.

"Logan, this is best for her." 

"Like hell it is. I'm the closest thing that girl has to a family, Charles, and I will not allow you to confine her to the hip of the man who nearly killed her this morning."

"So you claim responsibility for her because Rogue has no other family, is that correct?"

"Thanks for opening up your ears and joining the conversation, Chuck."

"And if she had family, then I would have to consult them," Xavier says patiently.

"Yeah, if she had family, then it could be their call. Since her mutation, those people who wanted to call themselves parents no longer matter," Logan says. 

"Fine, then we will ask her older brother," Xavier says. 

"You've lost it, Chuck. She's an only child." Logan says with a laugh.

"On the contrary, she only thinks that she is an only child. In reality, she has family who cares greatly for her."

"And who would this family be, exactly?" Logan says, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at the Professor.

Just then, the door opens slowly. Both men turn their attention to the solid cherry door. Logan narrows his eyes in a penetrating glare before unadulterated shock mares his features.

"You wanted to see me, Herr Xavier?" asks a lilting German voice.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: As usual, these characters and this incredible world are both not mine. I just play with them. Please review...I live by them. 

"You can't be serious! Blue boy?"

"Logan!" The Professor says sharply. "I believe Herr Wagner and I have something to discuss. And seeing as how there is no way I could physically remove you from the room?" he says, indicating his wheelchair. Logan is not fooled. He knows if Xavier wishes, telepathically, Logan would be removed. He was at least being fair; Logan had to give him that. "I will beg for your silence while Kurt and I have our discussion."

Logan glares at the Professor menacingly. "You're damn right, Chuck. I'm sitting right here," Logan says, lowering himself into a supple brown leather chair in a corner. "Trust me, this is one fairy tale I ain't missin'."

Kurt looks between the two men. His tail shivers slightly at the way Logan is looking through him. "Am I still needed, _Herr Professor_?" Kurt asks softly.

"Yes Kurt, of course. Please, have a seat." Charles says kindly.

"May I ask what this is about?" Kurt questions.

Xavier stalls a moment by looking pointedly at Logan. Logan casually shrugs, and gestures towards Kurt, as if cueing Xavier to start talking. Xavier clears his throat and folds his hands on the desk in front of him.

"Kurt, what do you know about your family?"

"What tests do you want to run now, Hank?" both Scott and Rogue ask together. "And for the love of God, how long will this last?" they finish together, with identical unamused expressions.

"The summation of the data pertaining to my analytical hypothesis is that the verbal mimicry is the primary symptom of an enhanced physiological connection."

Both Scott and Rogue stare blankly at the furry doctor, who sighs exhasperatly. "I think you two are connected at the brain, and the double talk will end by the end of the day."

"Thank God. What about the test?" Rogue asks, clamping a gloved hand over the mouth of a startled Scott. ::This is going to drive me nuts!:: she thinks to herself.

"Well, I want to run a DNA test on both of you, so that we can see if this is a permanent change to your mutation or only a side effect."

"That sounds okay," Rogue says, before her face contorts into one of playful disgust as the Doctor's back turns to collect his medical supplies.

She turns to look into Scott's mischievous eyes. "There a reason ya just licked me, sugah?"

"Well, I was fixin' ta bite ya, but I thought that might be rude," he replies, mocking her drawl. 

"That was gross, darlin'." Rogue says, wiping her gloved hand down her thighs.

"_Meine Mutter..._" begins Kurt in German. "Well, the woman I call my mother is really my adopted mother. I was found as a baby, on a riverbank, by a gypsy woman named Margali Szardos. The cloth I was wrapped in came from the house of the local barony. The Wagner family."

"Like Moses from the Nile," says Logan with a snort.

"Logan, please," chides the Professor. "Go on, Kurt."

"Margali raised me as her own, among the circus folk. My life there was much like the life you are trying to build for your pupils, _Herr Professor_. For me, the circus was a place where I was not a demon, or a freak of nature. I was Kurt Wagner, and my circus family accepted me as such, with no reservation and no prejudice."

"So why did you leave?" Logan asks.

"I had an argument with my sister," Kurt says, rubbing a three-fingered hand across the tattoos on his forehead. "I ran off in anger. I was... _was ist das Wort? _Abducted. Before I could return home. By Colonel Stryker."

"Kurt, I learned something about you when I first probed your mind," the Professor says, wheeling himself away from his desk and towards the ink-skinned mutant. "Something about your biological mother." 

Kurt looks at the Professor, startled. 

„Unglaublich!"Kurt exclaims. "Please, _Herr Professor,_ if you know who my mother is, please tell me!"

"As you wish," Xavier says, furrowing his brow. "But you may not like what I tell you."

"All right, Rogue," Dr. McCoy says. "I'm just going to take a vial of blood from both you and Scott. We should get the results by the end of the day."

"Well, lets get this damn thing over with," Scott and Rogue reply together, with identical looks of disdain marring their features.

Hank chuckles. "Impatient as always, I see. This is not going to hurt." Hank quickly jabs Scott's offered arm, and in one quick motion attaches a vial to the needle. Rogue watches fascinated as the bubbling, spurting blood quickly fills the glass cylindrical tube. She remains riveted as Hank removes the tube, now filled with crimson plasma, and attaches another tube, and she gets to watch it all over again. 

"May I ask you a question, Rogue?" Hank inquires. Rogue nods her head as an answer. "You still have Logan in your head, do you not?" 

Rogue looks quickly down at her hands. "He's always there. Right now is the first time since I came here that he ain't the loudest voice in my thoughts."

"Is that a problem?" Scott asks unexpectedly.

She only shakes her head. "It ain't bad or good, Mr. Summers. It's just... different. I can't explain it really. He's been in the forefront of my consciousness for a while now, and it's as if he's gone, but never far away, at the same time." She looks at Hank and offers a weak smile. "I guess it must sound like I'm babbling. I probably ain't even making sense. Why do you ask?"

Hank smiles. "You seem entranced by Scott's blood. It seemed a very Logan-like interest."

Rogue giggles, and the men join in with a chuckle. "I guess I'm a little surprised that blood is the same color with or without these glasses on."

"It is?" Scott asks, taken aback. It has hit him-- for the first time in his entire life, he has the Cliff Notes. He has someone that knows exactly what he sees as well as what everyone else sees. 

Rogue grows quiet, turning to look directly at Scott. She can only nod. The glasses slip slightly on the bridge of her nose. A red optic blast strikes Scott square in the chest, sending him flying across the lab and crashing into a long row of steel cabinets along the back of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N:  Okay, because if the writers guilt over the very short Chapter 7, I made Chapter 8 nice and long for your reading pleasure.  As always, the X-Man and other members of the Marvel universe do not beling to me and really, if I had just a piece of the box on the movies, I would not be living in a dinky apartment.  

Please review and I will hold a special place in my heart for you.

Swisch

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     Peter Rasputin stops his stroll up the hall and looks around.  The hall is empty; this makes him nervous.  In the back in his mind, Peter has always been slightly skittish.  Being a mutant in Russia will do that to a person.  Since the attack on the mansion, he's been on higher alert.  There is still something about that day that he simply cannot shake.  

Swisch

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     Slowly Peter makes his way down the hall with extreme caution, trying to see as far ahead as he can.  

     Swisch

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     Swisch…

     Peter stands still, holding his chest as his heart beats wildly.  The sound has stopped abruptly.  That can only mean one thing--whatever is making the sound knows that he is there.  There is an enemy that is sizing him up as a target--an enemy he has yet to see.  

     "What are you doing?"  

     Peter takes a step and cranes his neck up to see Remy LeBeau, sitting on the top rail of the banister, perched in the perfect spot to see everything, swinging his leg as if he is bored by the view.

     "I was looking for you," Colossus answers, trying in vain to slow his breathing.  The proud Russian is trying to not make it painfully evident that the Cajun has nearly scared the armor out of him.

     "Well then, _homme_, it's a good thing I was just hanging around here."

     "What are you doing up there?"  Peter asks.

     "Well, I don't want to be here if that's what you mean," Remy replies.

     "Okay, where do you want to be?"  

     "The Danger Room."  

     "You've been here a day.  How do you know about the Danger Room?" Peter asks, taken aback.  Of all the answers to his question that would be the Cajun's response, that was not even on Peter's not-probable list.

     "I was dere last night with Rogue.  Now Madame Monroe tells me I can't go dere without a teacher to supervise.  Hey, you can't get in there, can you?"

     "Nope," Peter answers, shaking his head.  "Pass code protected."  

     "How do you get one of those pass codes, then?"

     Peter shrugs.  "You have to be a teacher, or a member of the X-Men."  

     "_Oui_, but Rouge ain't a member of the team.  Dere has to be another way," Remy says, self-assured.  

     "True," Peter replies, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, head still tilted back.  "And if your mutation happens to be extracting information from people by killing them, then you too can have the pass code."  

     Remy rests his chin on his leather-clad knee in concentration.

     "I'm on my way to the gym downstairs.  You can come if you want.  No teachers needed."  Peter offers.

     "Well, _mon ami_, I think Remy take you up on dat offer."

     Exiting the library, Bobby is deep in his own thoughts, remembering an incredible dream from five nights ago.  Although his memory of the dream is hazy in the harsh morning light, there are portions that are still incredibly vivid--a tangle of arms and legs and lips and tongues and kisses.  One thing has seared itself into the forefront of his consciousness: He remembers a nip of teeth against his neck; a puff of air skittering across his flesh... A moan, taking the form of his name.  The voice belongs to Kitty Pryde.

     Peter watches from below as Remy tucks his feet up underneath his body, balancing on the thin wrought-iron banister.  The lanky man allows himself to fall forward, head first, only to twist his body to land both gracefully and soundlessly on the plush carpet, right in front of the lost-in-thought Bobby Drake.

     "Goddamn it!  Where the hell did you come from?"  Bobby asks.  Of all the people Bobby would want to fall out of the sky practically into his arms, Remy LeBeau is not among them.

     "The railing above," Remy answers, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.    "You should watch where you going, Snowy.  Might've gotten hurt," the Cajun adds, winking a crimson-on-black eye at Bobby.  Remy straightens his ever-present duster and, turning on his heels, walking away down the hallway.  Peter just looks at Bobby and shrugs before following Remy down the hallway towards the elevator.

     "Show-off."  Bobby mutters under his breath as he walks towards the common area.  The frost gathering on the walls as he passes indicates his foul mood.

~*~

"Scott!"  Rogue screams, quickly clamping her eyes shut.  She drops to her knees, her arms covering her head.  Hank McCoy roars in surprise.

~*~

"Kurt," begins the Professor, "I caught some stray thoughts from you when I was searching for you after the assassination incident.  With your permission, I'd like to scan your mind again.  Together, we may be able to discover who your real mother is."

"_Jawohl, Herr Professor_," Kurt responds.  "By all means."  He sits in a chair opposite Xavier and leans forward, so that Xavier can hold his hands to Kurt's temples.  Kurt flinches for a moment as the Professor enters his mind.  As he watches, Logan sniffs the air, catching a scent of fear and tension from both Kurt and the Professor.

"Open your mind to me completely," Xavier says softly to Kurt.  "We must go deep into your memories… beyond the first real memory you have… to when you were an infant."  The mind-locked men grimace as the professor probes deeper into Kurt's subconscious.  Beads of sweat form on Xavier's bald head.  Tears pour across the ridges of Kurt's scarred cheeks; his eyes roll back in his head.  

In Kurt's mind, Xavier feels himself being carried tight against a woman's chest, bouncing with each running stride. Suddenly, he feels the sensation of his carrier tripping, and losing hold of the baby in her hands.  He feels the sensation of freefall, and, through Kurt's eyes, sees himself falling away from his mother--a woman with scaled skin the color of the night sky above her, with eyes as shimmering yellow as Kurt's.  Xavier's sight turns from the woman on the ledge to the river below.  Xavier watches the river rise to meet him, and sees the scene disappear in a plume of smoke and a resounding _bamf…_

With a gasp of air, Kurt shakes back to reality, and the Professor leans back in his chair.

"I should have guessed," the Professor gasps, slumping down in his wheelchair in exhaustion. Logan rises out of his chair.  

"I'm fine, Logan," Xavier says, turning to Kurt, who is wiping his face clean with a handkerchief pulled from his pants pocket.

"Kurt," says the Professor, "Your mother is…"

"Mystique," Kurt answers, dropping his head into his three-fingered hands.  

"Mystique?" Logan asks incredulously.  "That changeling bitch is his mother?"

Kurt looks at Logan and offers a fang-toothed grin.  "It certainly explains my appearance, _nicht wahr_?"

"But how is that possible?"  Logan stammers.  "And how the hell does this relate to Rogue?"

"Logan, please, calm down," Xavier chides.  "My theory is that Mystique's shape-changing ability dampens the natural aging process in her body.  She may appear to be as old as Kurt, but she could easily be as old as me. Perhaps even as old as you."

"And Rogue?"  Logan asks.

"Rogue and I have talked about her past," Xavier says.  "She told me that she used to have nightmares that her mother would turn into a monster with scaly blue skin.  As it turns out, Rogue saw her mother transform into her true form one night when she was a very small child.  It traumatized her."

"So Rogue is the elf's sister?"  Logan asks.

"Step-sister," Xavier corrects.  "I researched her identity when you both arrived.  She was adopted as an infant.  Unfortunately, I could find no records of her true parents."

"_Unglaublich,_" Kurt says with a sigh.  "God works in mysterious ways.  Not only do I now know who my mother is, but I discover I have a new sister as well. _Fantastich! _I must share this with her!"

"Hang on there, Elf," Logan growls.  "Let's not rush…"

The room suddenly rocks as if it were sitting astride the San Andreas Fault.

"What the hell was that?" Logan asks, claws immediately drawn.

"It was an explosion, _ja?_" asks Kurt.

"Thanks for keeping up, elf," Logan says sarcastically.  

Xavier pinches the bridge of his nose in exhausted frustration.  He scans the occupants of the room below, but gets very little information.  "Apparently the lab is in ruin.  It would appear that an optic blast went awry.  I'm just not certain whose blast hit whom."

Logan's face does nothing to hide his fury.  Before he can even open his mouth, Kurt yells first.  "You mean Rogue, my sister, is down there in trouble again?  Some safe haven for mutants."  A stream of German curses disappears with a _bamf_ of air and blue-black smoke.

"Well, at least he has that overprotective big brother thing going," Logan says, shaking his head.  With his hand, claws still extended, he props open the Professor's heavy door. 

"So it would seem," Xavier answers, wheeling his way towards the elevator.

~*~

Kitty Pryde walks into the common area and sees Bobby Drake reading in a corner chair.  ::It's now or never,::_ s_he tells herself walking over towards the boy.

     "Hey, Bobby," Kitty says, standing in front of his chair.  Bobby doesn't even flinch at his name being called.  Kitty leans down closer to his ear.  

"Bobby," she says, not too loudly, as to not startle him.

     Bobby jumps and turns directly to stare into Kitty's eyes.

     "What?" Bobby asks, his voice taking an unfamiliar edge, accentuated by a puff of air.

     Kitty leans back, slightly taken aback.  "I... ah... hi," she stammers, completely lost.

     "Kitty, I just saw you in class two hours ago.  Hi to you too," Bobby replies, hoping sarcasm will mask his dream-induced panting from having his name on Kitty's lips so close to his skin.

     "Ah, yeah, you did, huh?"  Kitty says, growing red.  "Look, I just wanted to know if you could tutor me in astronomy.  It's just that you are always so good at math and numbers.  I am completely hopeless about them.  You are always the one that is the top of the class.  You are always here.  John had said that he would help me with this class over the summer, but you know how reliable and, well, dangerous he turned out to be," Kitty babbles on, high on fear-induced adrenalin.  "You're just always there and very comfortable."

     ::So,:: Bobby thinks to himself, ::I'm safe.  Not someone to date, but someone to fix everything.::  Bobby gets up out of his chair, angry.  "Is that right?  Ask Bobby and he'll fix everything.  Well, I'm sick to death of being the constant one around here," he announces loudly, his Boston accent growing thick with his anger.  The entire room turns their attention to the two teens.  "I can be dangerous.  I am dangerous.  Ever seen someone frozen to death?" he bellows.

     Kitty shakes her head.  

"Well, it ain't pretty, sweetheart.  It's hella painful.  Look, you want some lackey to attempt to get you to wrap that pretty little mind around astronomy, then I suggest that you talk to the Professor or Dr. McCoy.  Hell, you have a better shot at Logan tutoring you at this point than me," Bobby finishes, grabbing his bag and exiting the room through the door.  Kitty prefers to use the wall as her escape route, so that as few people as possible can see the tears running down her face.

     Teresa Roarke stands in the common room, mouth agape at the scene that has just unfolded before her eyes, and instantly her heart goes out to her roommate.  She would follow her if it hadn't been for that whole walking-through-the-wall thing.

     The room then rumbles, and the newly re-paned glass windows rattle in their frames.

     "Bloody hell! What was that?" she asks curiously.

     "In this house, it could be darn near anything,"  Jamie Madrox, standing at Theresa's right, answers, with a shrug.

"Ah, to be young and mutant," Jones says dryly to Thrersa's left.  Teresa can't help but to agree.

~*~

The elevator door slides open, and an uncharacteristic chill skitters down Remy's spine.  If he didn't know any better, he would believe a lion was roaming the halls.

     "What was that?" Remy asks.

     "Doctor McCoy," Peter answers, shifting his attention down the hallway.

     Remy watches as Peter's exterior begins to look like metal puzzle pieces quickly fitted together.

     "It came from dis way."  Remy says, reaching into his pocket for a deck of playing cards as he rushes down the hallway.  The cards start glowing an explosively neon magenta as he follows the surprisingly agile Russian down to the sub-basement.  As the two mutants run through the door of the lab, Remy is stunned by the sight before him.  

The normally meticulously organized laboratory of Dr. Henry McCoy lies in ruin.  Scattered haphazardly across the room is twisted metal, shattered glass and rubble.  In the center of the chaos sits Rogue, looking incredibly small.

     Peter leans over the girl.  "Rogue?  Can you move?  You have to get out of here," he says, reaching down and wrapping his massive fingers around her forearm.

     "Don't touch me!" she screams, eyes wild.  "Please.  Don't touch me.  Leave me alone.  No more metal..." 

     "You can't sit here," Peter says concerned.

     Remy grabs Colossus' arm.  "I've got her, _homme_.  You help the doctor."  The other boy nods and crosses the lab.

     Gambit crouches down and stokes Rogue's hair.  "Come on, _chere_.  You and me, we gotta go."  

     She shakes her head. "Just go. I can't… just go."  

     "I can't do that."  Remy replies resolutely.

     "Trust me, swamp rat.  Cut your losses. Just leave me alone."

     Gambit shakes his head. He reaches into the pocket of his trenchcoat pulling out a pair of leather gloves.

     "Marie," Remy says, sliding the gloves on his hands.  The girl looks up at him, tears streaming down from under a too-big visor.  "I'm taking you out of here with me.  Trust Remy?"

Rogue nods slowly.  Remy reaches down and slides his right arm under her thigh; his left arm braces her back.  Remy feels her heart thud under his leather clad fingers.  He allows himself a small smile as her heart begins to beat faster under his touch.  Marie wraps her arms around Remy's neck and feels the floor drop farther and farther away from her body as he pulls himself to full height. 

     "Let Remy get you out of here, _chere_," the Cajun says soothingly, easily navigating through the rubble and tucking a pair of small red glasses into his pocket.

     "Yes, please," comes the small reply from the small form snuggled into Remy's chest.

~*~

     "Is he all right, doctor?"  Peter asks in his thick Russian accent.

     Hank looks up at the massive armored man and shakes his head helplessly.  "I don't know, Peter.  I really don't."

     "Mr. Summers is alive, though, right?"  Peter asks, furrowing his chromed brow.

     Hank arched his own blue-furred, leonine brow at Peter.  "Yeah, we'll go with that."

     Colossus releases a pained sigh.  "Well, Doctor, we should get him out.  He might need a Band-Aid."

     "To say the least," Hank agreed, moving another bit of twisted metal out of the way to finally reveal Scott Summers encased in a folded, half-melted steel cabinet.

     "What did this?"  Peter asks in awe.

     "Rogue's optic blast," Hank answers grabbing one side of the cabinet while Peter grasps the other.  "It hit Scott square in the chest."  

     The metal creaks slightly, and Scott begins to stir.

     "Don't move, Mr. Summers," Colossus says, startled that any movement on Cyclops' part was possible.

     "I'm fine, Peter.  It's just a little tight in here," Scott jokes.

     "Well, lets get you out," Hank says.  The hulking blue Beast and the metallic Colossus grasp the cabinet on each side, and, with one firm tug, Hank releases Cyclops from the metal trappings.

     "Agh!"  Scott cries out.

     "Scott, what is it?"  Hank says, instantly worried.

     Scott picks up his arm, showing four vicious long red scratches, already seeping blood.

"Don't you ever cut those nails of yours, McCoy?"

     "_Mea culpa_, Scott.  Let's get you out of here and we can clean you up."

     "Yes, please," Scott replies, taking the offered hands of both men and pulling himself from the twisted metal.  As he stands, he watches Remy carry Rogue out of the room in his arms.

~*~

"Where are you taking me?" Rogue asks into the Cajun's chest.

     "I don't quite know yet," Remy confesses.  

     "Hang a right and bang on the third panel on the left."  

Remy does as he is told. The large panel slides open to reveal a tunnel.

     "Handy," Remy concedes, stepping into the corridor and hitting the close button with his elbow while continuing his trek, Rogue still in his arms.

     "You know, you can put me down."  Rogue says, looking at the man who had his hand suspiciously close to her butt.

     "Ah, come on, _chere_, you ruinin' Remy's fun."  He flashes her his best grin before dropping the girl lightly on her feet.  In the silence that follows as the two teens stood and just stared at each other, Remy reaches into his pocket.  "Here, _chere_, these might fit you better."  He says producing the pair of square ruby quarts lenses. 

     "Where did you get these?"  Rogue questions.

     "They were in the lab.  I supposed that they were yours."

     "Thank you."  Rogue replies taking the glasses and closing her eyes tight as she removes the ill-fitting set before replacing them with the new lighter pair.  She never sees Remy flinch slightly at the sight of the still angry purple welt that surrounds her eye.   

     "You look good, _chere." _ Remy smiles.

     "Thanks."  She replies.

     "Now, what?"  Remy inquires.

     "Come this way, sugah."

     "Where we going, _chere_?"

     Rogue smiles.  "We're going to the fountain.  Everyone's in class, so we'll be left alone."

     "What we gonna do there?"  Remy asks wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

     She sighs.  "I don't know, but I am sure it ain't what's going on in your dirty little mind," she says with a grin, tapping the side of her head with a long gloved finger.

"Can't blame a guy for trying.  Lead on, Marie." Remy smiles, following the still shaky girl through the iron grate and into the tree-filtered sunshine.

~*~

"_Mein Gott im Himmel_," Kurt whispers, taking in the sight of the rubble strewn about Hank's facility as the blue-black smoke clears.  "Where is Rogue?  What did you do to her?"  Kurt asks, grabbing Scott's shirt and pulling the man face to face with himself.

"What have _I_ done to _her_?"  Scott asks, dumbfounded.

Colossus grabs Kurt's arm and pulls him off of Scott as Hank speaks.  "Kurt, you have it all wrong.  Scott got hit, not the other way around," Hank explains, uncharacteristically leaving the big words out of the conversation.

"Rogue did this?" Kurt asks, confused.

"I'm afraid so," Hank answers as the Professor comes though the door, followed by Logan.  They don't get very far.

"A little help, please," Charles says in a grandfatherly voice that instantly eases the residual tensions in the room.

Once enough debris is cleared, everyone sits around as Hank grabs gauze and tape from a still-intact cabinet and begins to clean the gashes in Scott's arm.

"So what happened around here, Dr. Furry?"  Logan asks, placing an unlit cigar between his teeth.

"One of Rogue's optic blasts hit Scott."  Hank replies diplomatically.

"How in the hell are you not Swiss cheese?"  Logan asks Scott.

Hank, Scott, and Charles all exchange looks of silent conversations until Scott sighs in defeat.  "The Summers effect," he replies.

"The Summers effect?" Kurt and Peter question, at the same time, in conflicting accents.

"There is a condition being investigated by Dr. McCoy on an oddity being displayed among mutant siblings," Scott answers.

"Why is it named after you?"  Logan asks skeptically.

"Jean knew the story of my brother and decided to study the phenomena among other families," Scott says.

"The hypothetical theory," says Dr. McCoy, "states that among siblings there is a protection provided by the mutant gene amongst individuals sharing simular genetic make-ups."

Logan looks around to the blank faces of his teammates.  "Am I the only one who understood that?" 

"Yes,"  Peter answers.

Hank shrugs.  "I talk fast."

"I just don't understand," Kurt says, slumping in defeat.

"Look, Elf.  If you and Marie were related by blood instead of by law, you may not be able to teleport with her, or she wouldn't be able to drain you."

"You and Rogue are related?"  Scott asks, startled at this little tidbit of information.  "How?"

"Yeah, you missed the story of how the elf ended up hoping around Marie's family tree, Scooter."  Logan chuckles, under intense glares from both Kurt and Xavier.

"She is my sister."  Kurt answers.

"You can certainly see the family resemblance, huh, One-Eye?" Logan jokes, enjoying the confused expression on Scott's face.

"Yeah. Uncanny,"  Scott replies dripping in sarcasm.

"So you can't hurt Marie," Kurt sums up, changing the subject.

"It would appear so," Scott answers.

"So if this Summers Effect is true, then why can I see Mystique change?"

"I believe I can answer that," Charles starts.  "First of all, it must be a sibling, or someone who shares genetic similarities from both parents."

"Or in Rogue's case, absorbed enough of Scott to get the same type of immunity as a blood relative," Hank adds.

"Wait, back the truck up," Scott says, waving his arms in a fed-up gesture.  "Kurt is Rogue's brother?  How is he related to Mystique?"

"Scott, she is his mother," Charles explains patiently.  "She also adopted Rogue at a very young age and sent her to live with a distant cousin.  That is how Magneto knew about both her and her mutation to use her during the Liberty Island attack."

Peter lets out a low whistle of disbelief.  

"Sick bastard," Logan growls. Hank nods in agreement.

Scott turns to Kurt.  "Sweet Jesus.  At this rate, the devil himself would wind up being your father."  Logan chuckles roughly in the background.

"The Lord works in mysterious ways," Kurt concedes.

"So where do we go from here?" Logan asks.

"What do you mean, Herr Logan?" 

"Well, we know that Rogue and Blue Boy are brother and sister, and Marie and Scotty-boy can't hurt each other with the flashes of light in their eyes.  So, now what?"

"Now I suppose we tell Rogue that Kurt is her brother," Hank says, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Are you sure that is wise, Dr. McCoy?" Peter asks.

"Why wouldn't it be?"  Scott asks.

"It just seems like a lot to take in right now," Peter says.  "A man she just met less than a month ago is her long lost brother neither of you knew she had, and a woman who tried to kill her is her mother.  This on top of the fact that she nearly killed two friends yesterday, and her professor this morning." 

     "Y'know, the tin man's got a point," Logan says.

     "_Ja_, having a demon for a sibling could be disturbing," Kurt concedes miserably.

     "I don't think that's what Peter was saying," Scott offers.

     "I think the problem is much more about her mother than her brother, Kurt."  Charles replies.

     "Where is she?" Logan asks.

     "Who?" Hank inquires.

     "Rogue!" Logan answers exhasperatly.

     "She's with Remy," Scott answers.

     "So she's safe," Kurt sighs.

     "Define safe," Logan growls, rubbing his knuckles as Scott nods his head.

     "Can we please get back to the subject?"  Charles asks.

     "Yes, I believe we got a little off track," Hank concurs.

     "Wait, did we all just agree on something?"  Logan asks incredulously.  "That Rogue doesn't need to know about her family now?"

     Hank looks around to the other occupants in the rubble littered room.  "It would appear so."

     "I think that we just did, _ja_."  Kurt answers.

     "All right," Charles says, making a small defeated gesture.  "We will wait until Rogue is ready to hear the news."

     There is a nodded consent among the men in the room as they start to file out of what's left of Hank's lab.

     "Sorry about your lab," Scott says, patting Hank's shoulder comfortingly.

     "Well, at least I know what I'll be doing all night."

~*~

"I am a little confused," Ororo starts, wrinkling her noble brow and looking up into her lover's face while leaning against his chest.  They were sitting on the balcony of her attic loft overlooking the sprawling grounds.  

     "Let's start at the beginning," Kurt smiles.  "It is a lot to digest."

     "So what you are telling me is that you found out that you have a family today."  Ororo says, leaning her head back against Kurt's bare blue chest.

     "_Ja_," comes the German's answer.

     "And your family consists of Mystique as your mother... and apparently she also adopted Rogue at some point, making Marie your sister."

     "It would appear so, _ja_." 

     "And at which point did Rogue try and kill Scott?"  

Kurt looks over his lover's shoulder, critically.  

"Accidentally."  Ororo added with a grin.

"That happened at the same time," Kurt says with a sigh.

"So we could say that both you and Scott had a rough day."

"To say the least," Kurt laughs, running his fingers thorough snow white tresses.  Quietly he takes pleasure watching spun platinum, glistening in the moonlight, spilling and skittering across the ink skin of Kurt's bare chest.

     "So as a consequence, you, Logan, Scott, and Professor Xavier decided to keep this new found information to yourselves," Ororo starts, incredulously.  "And away from Rogue."

     "It was Peter's idea," Kurt replies in their defense.

     "Peter's?"  Ororo asks, slightly taken aback.  "So one student is deciding what will be told to another student about her life?"

     "_Ja_.  It really makes sense though.  She is still having a rough time with her powers without a demon for a brother.  The Professor agreed with us.  Peter didn't actually have a say, just the suggestion."

     "Giver her a little credit, Kurt.  Besides, I have a demon for a lover," Ororo smiles, staring into the night over the mansion's expansive grounds.

"And thank _Gott_ for that."  Kurt answers, resting his chin atop her head while a three-fingered hand toys with the flesh of her neck as she sighs her pleasure to the night goddess' graces.

~*~

     Underneath the lovers' balcony loft, Scott is making his way toward the weather witch's greenhouse carrying a six pack of Molson.  He smiles a little at the sight of a feral man working over a small flat of dirt as he open the door.

     "Want one, Logan?"  Scott offers the man who takes a seat on the work table next to the same flat he had jsut been staring at.

     "How did you find me, bub?"  Logan growls, taking the offered icy bottle.

     "Oh, come off it, Logan," Scott chides, taking his own seat on the table across from Logan.  "You can't honestly believe you're the only one who hides out in Ororo's greenhouse." 

     "One could hope."  Logan grumbles.

     "What's your problem?"  Scott asks, taking a long swig.

     "There's something going on around here, Scooter.  I can feel it in my adamantium."  Logan says.

     "Will wonders never cease.  Did the big bad Wolverine just make a joke?"  Scott laughs.

     "Well," Logan grins.  "If you can find beer in Lemonade Lucy's birthplace, then I can tell a joke or two."

     "You had beer yesterday."  Scott replies.

     "Yes, but I also happen to know that beer is no more.  There is no more alcohol left in the house."

     Scott laughs.  "You've been looking in the wrong places.  Charles has brandy and cognac in his office.  Hank makes microbrews in his lab.  Jean has... had a wine cooler in the teacher's lounge.  Hell, if you get really desperate, Peter's sister sends him vodka straight from his hometown, or hit up Siryn for the Irish whiskey that I know she sneaks from Sean."

     "Well, shit.  Now you tell me.  I was drinking Dr. Pepper with the snowball when the school was invaded.  Trust me, I could have used a drink."

     "I can imagine."  Scott laughs.  "I was takin' a high- heeled boot to the skull at about that time." 

     Logan chuckles.  "Yeah, she was one tough bitch."

     "We're not getting along, are we?"  Scott asks critically after a moment, through a beer-induced haze.

     "Nah.  You're still a dick, One-Eye."

     "Good.  I wouldn't want anything to get too screwed up around here," Scott declares as Logan laughs, staring up though the glass panes into the night sky.  

~*~

     "I need to get away," Rogue sighs, tossing a penny into the fountain, watching the water ripple.

     "We could run away," Remy offers offhandedly.

     "We could.  We could just leave," Rogue says, excitement welling up in her voice.

     "Then we'll go, _neh_?"  Remy says, getting to his feet and offering a hand down to the sitting girl.

     "Be serious.  We can't leave," Rogue replies, all excitement gone from her tone, replaced with resigned regret.

     "You don't want to be cooped up here all summer any more than I do.  Just run away with me tonight," Remy says, the resolution in his voice accentuated slightly by pleading hope.

     "We can't leave, Remy."

     "Yes, we can."

     "Where will we go?"

     "Anywhere you want to, _chere_."

"How will we get there?"

"I saw a motorcycle.  They won't miss it."

Rogue chuckles gruffly.  "Seems to be a theme."

"What?"

"Long story."

"You can tell it to me on the road."

"I can't."

     "Which part?"  Remy asks with a languid smile.

     "The running."

"Why?"

     "Scott.  Logan.  The Professor.  Pick one.  It would be wrong to make them worry like that."

     "I don't care if it's wrong.  Come with me, _chere_.  I can't stay here while a summer sun sets on the road.  And Remy can't leave with out you."  He says.

     Rogue looks at Remy's offered hand in its calf-skinned covering.  She places her palm in it, surprised a little by the fact that it feels just like both Scott's and Logan's-- strong, sure, comforting.

     "Let's go, sugah," Rogue says, allowing the Cajun to pull her close to his body before they head off towards the garage.

~*~  

     "Mind if I sit down?"  

     Kitty looks up from where her chin rested atop her knees and into Bobby's blue eyes.  "Sure, I guess there's enough room," she replies, gesturing to the empty sofa beside her.

     "What are you watching?"  Bobby asks, not even looking at the TV screen as he sits down next to the sad-eyed girl.

     "Watchin' the Cubs lose," she replies dryly.

     "I know that feeling," Bobby offers, falling into a deafening silence.  Bobby doesn't know what to say, and apparently Kitty won't make it easy on him. 

     "I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier."  Bobby says, drawing his knees up on the sofa, imitating Kitty's posture.  He does not look as comfortable as the more limber girl.

     "It's fine."  

     "No, it's not," Bobby replies, shaking his head.  "I was feeing sorry for myself and it was no excuse."

     "It's fine, really.  I'll just get Professor X or Dr. McCoy to tutor me."

     "It's probably safer that way," Bobby sighs, mostly to himself.

     "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"  Kitty snaps.  "I don't think for a minute that you would freeze me to death if I got an answer wrong."

     "It's not like that," Bobby starts, growing red-faced. 

     "So what is it like, Bobby?"  Kitty retorts quickly, feeling the anger well up deep from her belly.

     "I don't know that I could sit in that stuffy library for an hour every night the entire summer and not touch you."

     Kitty turns to look at Bobby, fury evident on her delicate features.  "Don't," she grinds out dangerously.

Bobby is taken aback.  He's never seen her angry before.  

"Don't you dare play with me like this is some game," Kitty says, anger and despair mixing in her voice.  "Not you.  I can't take it.  Not from you."  

     Bobby gapes openly at the small Midwestern girl.  "What?" he stammers quietly.  "What can't you take from me?"

     Kitty slumps deeper into her knees.  "I couldn't take the teasing from you, too."

     "Why would anyone tease you about me?"  Bobby asks, heart stomping a cadence behind his ribs.

     "Don't play stupid with me, Drake.  It doesn't suit you."

     "As much as I hate to admit this, Pryde, I'm not playing."

     "Why don't you tell me why you won't tutor me?"  Kitty asks, trying in vain to squelch any hope that dares to peek around her heart.

     Bobby rests his chin on his knees.  He closes his eyes as he speaks.  "I have had a crush on your for a while now.  I didn't want to hurt Marie, but... I haven't been touched in so long, that..."  

A feather-soft hand brushing across his cheekbone towards his neck stills Bobby's voice.  He continues slowly, every word more difficult than the last.  "I had a dream, last night.  It was about you.  I was thinking about it, about you when you scared me his afternoon.  I'm sorry, Kitty." 

     Kitty's only response is a light kiss to his lips.  Her lips turn rosy pink from the cold.  Slowly he reaches out to touch her, to run his fingers through her hair and cup the top of her neck, and pulls her closer, dropping the barrier of his knees.

She shivers at the chill of his fingers against the nape of her warm neck.  She gasps slightly at the sensation, opening her mouth slightly.  Bobby seizes this chance and allows his tongue to explore the inside of her mouth.  Now it was his turn to be surprised.  A tingling sensation dances across his nerve endings.  It now feels like he is kissing muggy dense air.  He cracks his eyes and smiles slightly as he pulls away reluctantly.  Kitty was unconsciously phasing through him.

"It's nice to know I'm not the only one who still has trouble with my mutation."  Bobby smiles, pulling Kitty into his arms to lean her against his chest as he rests his chin atop her head.  

Kitty grins, sleepily tilting her head up to look at the boy.  "Only when you're around, Drake," she yawns.

"Good to know, Pryde," he answers, placing a soft kiss into her hair as they both drift off to sleep there in the den.  The Cubs game coming to an end was their only lullaby--they still lost.

~*~

The smooth vaulted ceilings of his dorm room hold no surprises.  Many nights have been spent meticulously inspecting every inch of the plaster.  With a grunt that would do Logan proud, Piotr Nikolovich Rasputin curses himself once again. 

There is something about that night he simply cannot shake.  Even though he can never admit it, he cannot get to sleep most nights.  Tonight holds no exception.  He lays in bed, watching the ceiling, allowing himself to get lost in his own mind.  He tries to tempt an elusive sleep another way, counting sheep in both English and Russian, reading, writing his sister--anything that might work.  So far, it hasn't.  

There is one cure.  He slowly rolls his massive frame out of bed, surprisingly light on his feet, and creeps his way down the hall.  It's not far--just three more doors and he assures himself hours of peaceful slumber.  He holds his breath in tense anticipation.  This is silly, and he knows it.  There is nothing that he can do.  It is either this, or not sleep.  

Ever so quietly, he turns the knob of the mahogany door that his nocturnal wandering has brought him to.  Inch by inch, the door reveals what he has come to see.  His vision drinks in the sight of a slumbering girl, safe and sound, peacefully curled under a crisp cotton sheet.  The bold Irish flag hanging over the head of her bed makes him smile.  He had helped her hang it only three days before the mansion was invaded.  Proudly in the center of the flag was a bullet hole.  The flag had been moved from the other side of the room.  The bullet hole was from one that bounced off his chest while he was armoring up that night.  She said that somehow it fit, and he couldn't help but agree.  Using just as much care, he closes the door without a sound.  With a large yawn, he makes his way back down the corridor.  ::After all,:: he tells himself tonight, just as every night before, ::she'll yell if she needs me.:: 


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I'll make this short and sweet. Marvel Playthings: Not Mine. Money: None. Coffee: One cream, two sugars. Reviews: Yes, please.

"Pack light," Remy LeBeau calls after Rogue as she slips into the mansion.

"Screw you, swamp rat," she sighs, as he chuckles, heading to the garage.

Rogue slips into her room and looks around. Quickly, before she can lose her nerve, she grabs her green coat and begins loading useful items into the plethora of pockets contained in the garment. She kicks off her tennis shoes, replacing them with motorcycle boots Logan had specially made for her. She smiles as her sock-covered feet reach up to rub the specially molded plastic contained inside--strong as steel, and not able to be manipulated by Magneto. Two different types of protection--Logan always thinks in those terms when it comes to Marie.

Shrugging the zip-up hoodie off her shoulders and letting it heap on the floor, she throws on her green coat, thrilling with the rush of excitement. She was running again. Into the night, she is leaving what she knows, to chase a ribbon of asphalt. She stops at her door, turning back to her desk. Grabbing a pen, she writes a quick note on the sheet of paper at the edge of the desk. She drops the paper onto her bed before slipping out and making her way to the garage.

Remy easily chooses the bike he wants to spend the summer with. Black leather and meticulously cared-for chrome, looking like it has never left the showroom; it is the odometer that tells Remy this incredible bike has been used hard, and that is the type of machine that likes it that way. Remy knows motorcycles, and this one is a gearhead's wet dream.

The keys are easy--they are with the bike. He looks around for anything that might come in handy while they are on the road. He finds nothing other than a gas pump. He looks at the fuel gauge--she is half-full. Quietly, he walks the motorcycle across the large X embedded into the floor to the pump to fill the rest of the tank. He is so intent on being silent that he doesn't hear Marie descend the stairs. Her quiet laughter brings his attention to the girl in the green coat.

"Where's your stuff, _chère_?" Remy asks.

"I'm wearing it, smart ass," Rogue drawls.

"Dat's my girl." Remy grins.

"Don't get presumptive, devil."

"We have to go," Remy says, nonchalantly ignoring Rogue's last statement.

"I'm just waitin' on you. How'd you ever get to be a thief? You must be the slowest boy on the planet." She smiles at the quirk of his lips.

"I wouldn't want to keep you waiting, _petit fille_." Remy replies, returning the nozzle to its notch on the gas pump. "Come on, Marie. The sun be up in a few hours."

"Yep, it should still be dark when we walk the bike out."

"Walk?" Remy questions, quietly rolling the motorcycle to the massive garage door.

"Logan's hearing," Rogue answers, shaking her head. "You have to stop underestimating him, Remy. Especially if you are going to steal his girl and expect to live to tell the tale."

"Don't worry about me, _chère_," Remy smiles easily as he throws right leg over the bike. On the other side, she does the same thing with her left.

"Ready to go?" Remy asks as the bike roars to life.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Rogue replies, pulling on the black helmet emblazed with an X. She knows it is Scott's; it makes her feel safer somehow.

As the bike pulls away, she can't help but wonder if, unlike the old saying, she can come back home here after her adventure is over. She watches the front gate of the mansion shrink off into the distance, her arms clasped tightly around Remy's broad chest, holding on to him for balance, praying to whoever was listening that he is up to the job.

--

Scott Summers' morning begins abruptly. He is shaken out of his slumber by the sensation of being pulled up and away from his pillow by his shirt front, which is clenched in a steely one-handed grip. He feels three thorny pricks of pressure against his throat.

"Where the fuck is she, bub?" Logan growls deep in his chest, his fury evident.

Struggling to clear his mind, Scott suddenly wishes he hadn't shared the second six-pack with the feral man the night before. Logan can't get drunk, but Scott can, and he did a damn good job of it last night. The hangover he feels is his reward. The blood oozing down his chest brings him back from his haze.

"Does it look like I have her hidden under my bed, Wolverine? You woke me up out of a dead sleep and into a hangover. You tell me where the hell she is."

Scott doesn't have to ask for clarification--this is about Rogue. Only Rogue can bring out the Wolverine in Logan without a physical attack. He feels the tips of Logan's blades retract from his flesh as Logan lets go of his shirt. Scott slumps over reeling from the shock and the alcohol-induced muddiness in his head. He brings his hand to his throat, pulling back a hand covered in blood.

"So I assume you can't find Marie," Scott yawns, sitting up, looking at Logan.

"I can't smell her anywhere."

"The whole mansion? How good could your nose really be?" Scott asks skeptically, rubbing his head, attempting to remove the fog.

"There's two bunnies goin' at it in the woods by the front gate. My nose is half-decent," Logan answers flatly.

"Is Kurt still here?" Scott asks.

"Yep, he's in the attic." Logan grins. "Don't ask about Ororo. She's busy."

"TMFI, as Jubilee would say." Scott cringes. "Let's go check her room."

Scott opens the door to Rogue's room. Sunshine pours into the windows, forcing Scott to squint. He feels Logan push past him into the room, heading for her closet. Scott's eye catches something on the bed. He walks over and picks up the sheet.

_Marie's Fall Schedule_

_ Ethics – Prof. Xavier_

_ Combat Tactics – Logan_

_ Advanced German – Mr. Wagner_

College World History – Ms. Monroe 

_ College Into to Writing – Mr. Summers_

_ College Lit.: Southern Writers – Mr. Summers_

_ Scott, _

_ See you in the fall_

_ -Rogue_

"Goddamn her," Logan growls.

Scott turns around, the piece of paper clenched in his fist.

"Her coat is gone." Logan grinds out.

"Maybe she's just on the grounds somewhere, wearing it." Scott says, trying to keep Logan calm. He knows that will be impossible if Logan reads the note.

"It's her running coat, Scooter. She was wearin' it when she walked into my cage fight in Laughlin City, and she took it to the train station when she ran. She's not here, One-Eye. She's gone." Logan narrows his eyes at the crumple of paper clutched in Scott's fist. "What's that, bub?"

Scott sighs. Options race through his mind--Lie; pretend it's nothing; talk to the Professor telepathically. He decides on none of these. Instead, he pockets the sheet of paper with a pointed question. "Is there anyone else in the mansion you can't smell?"

Logan gets quiet for a long moment, smelling the air.

_Snikt._

"That fuckin' Cajun's gone too." Logan roars. "That bastard left and took Marie with him."

Scott nods, quietly feeling a quiet storm rage in his body more terrifying than anything Ororo Munroe can hope to produce. "It's time to talk to the Professor."

Charles Xavier is having a quiet breakfast with one of his favorite former students. Dr. Hank McCoy has brought him coffee and bagels, a special morning delivery courtesy of Warren Worthington, another former student and classmate of Hank's.

"So Warren just sends you bagels and Columbian coffee regularly?" The professor asks, taking a bite of the warm bread with half-melted cream cheese and lox, a taste for which he developed when Erik lived in the mansion.

"Usually about twice a month, Hank grins, holding a dainty china cup in his massive paw. "He considers it a kind of compensation." "Pardon?" Xavier inquires.

"I am Warren's Primary Care Physician. To be honest, I am his only physician. I refuse to let him pay me monetarily, so every few weeks, he makes sure that I remain well-fed."

"Ah, I see." Charles laughs. "So does he just send you food?"

"Usually he come to visit, as well. He had an early morning meeting today, so this was sent by courier, along with his regrets."

"Pity. It would have been nice to see him again."

"Indeed. I'm sure he'll stay for a chat when he comes in August for his physical. The doctors employed at Worthington Industries are a little put out that he would fly as far away as Glasgow just for a physical when they are only down the hall. But I have knowledge that they simply do not possess." Hank declares, with just a hint of superiority.

"In other words, a twelve-foot wingspan does not bother you," Charles quips, sipping his coffee.

"Exactly," Hank declares.

The heavy doors of Charles' office swing open violently and bang solidly against the paneled wall.

"Good morning, Logan," Hank says without turning around to look at the intruding man. He leans forward and flips two bagels in the air over his shoulder. Scott easily catches one and takes a hearty bite; the other encircles the middle claw of Logan's right hand. He retracts his blades and catches the bagel, too distracted to eat just yet. He crosses the room and lays his palms at the front of Xavier's desk, leaning forward to confront the Professor.

"We need to talk, Wheels," Logan says, the words rumbling in his throat.

"Obviously," Professor Xavier replies. He knows what Logan is angry about--the mental pictures are screaming from Logan's head. This is not a conversation he wants to have at 7:30 in the morning.

--

Mile after mile, the pair race chasing the dark as the morning sun slowly awakens around one wickedly fast motorcycle. Looking around, Marie knows they have long ago crossed the New York state line. She knows every city and county that now greets the sunrise with their dust. The only thing that she does not know is where they are headed.

"Do you even know where we're going, sugah?" Rogue yells the question as to be heard both through her helmet and over the rush of wind.

"Don't you trust me, _chère_?" Remy asks with a chuckle. He was wearing a less constrictive helmet that left his face free, unlike Cyclops'.

"I ran away with you, didn't I?" Rogue drawls. "Don't press your luck."

"There's a safe house outside Chicago. We goin' dere."

"Why there?" the girl asks.

"It's a good rest stop. Nice place to get lost for a while, if you get my drift," Remy answers.

"Chicago it is, then," Rogue agrees, as the road lulls her to sleep with her head resting against Remy's back.

--

This is quite possibly the most important day of Alex Summers' life, and for the first time since college, he is running late. He scrambles around his apartment, grabbing keys and stuffing papers into a briefcase. Spinning around, he grabs his keys from the kitchen table and takes long strides across his apartment. In one smooth movement, he unlocks, opens, swings his briefcase containing his computer and dig papers over his shoulder, exits, turns, and locks the door, all without upsetting one drop of steaming hot coffee.

Dashing down the staircase, he rushes out into the early morning light. Turning his attention to his briefcase, he never sees a large man step directly into his path.

--

"Here we are." Remy says, pulling the bike into an alley behind a strip of restaurants and half-dead businesses.

"Home sweet home, I see," Rogue jokes, admitting to herself that it really isn't that bad of a place to stay.

"It ain't that bad," Remy sighs, reaching up to grab the bottom rung of the fire escape and pulling it down to them. "After you, _chère_."

Rogue gets half way up the ladder before turning over her shoulder to look at Remy, who was still on the ground. "You comin', darlin'?"

_Not yet,_ the man thinks to himself. "Just enjoyin' de view, beautiful girl," he calls aloud.

Remy makes short work of the ladder before pulling two long thin instruments from his trenchcoat. Rogue's eyes narrow.

"Is this really yours?" she asks. "Where's the key?"

Remy looks at her with his best trust-me smile. "It's a Thieves Guild safehouse. Who needs to try and keep up with a key?" Remy easily pops the lock of the door.

"After you," he says bowing lightly.

Rogue shakes her head a little at the man as she steps inside the modest one-bedroom apartment. It is not much to look at, but it is moderately furnished--not really meant for someone to stay long, but to be comfortable enough when they are here.

"Why don't you go wash off the road dust?" Remy offers. "Remy gon' find us some food."

"All right," Rogue agrees, shrugging off her coat and draping it over the arm of a chair.

"There's some clothes in the closet. Don't know what's there, but if you want to change into something, it's there."

"Thank you, Remy," Marie replies, laying a gloved hand upon his cheek before turning toward the bedroom.

"My pleasure, _chère_," Remy replies, barely above a whisper, as the bedroom door clicks shut.

--

"Scan the grounds if you don't believe me, Chuck," Logan says. "You'll know they're gone."

"I already have," Charles says calmly. "You are correct."

"Now the question remains," Hank says, licking cream cheese from his blue-furred fingertips, "How did she manage to leave?"

"We should take a quick inventory of every vehicle in the mansion," Scott says, slipping into leader mode with alarming ease.

"No need, Scott," Hank says, rising from his chair. He walks over to the display panel in the wall, punching a few keys.

"Look," Hank says, indicating the image on the screen, taken hours before. The four men watched Rogue and Remy quietly walk Scott's bike out of the garage and out of the frame.

"That's my girl," Logan grins with something akin to fatherly pride.

"Jesus Christ," Scot yells, exasperated. "What is it with you people? Can't anyone walk out the front door of this place without taking my cars? There are forty-seven different vehicles in this place. It's practically a damn showroom. Why does everyone take my stuff?"

"You do have the best toys, Cyclops." Hank grins.

--

"_Gott im Himmel_," Rogue breathes.

Remy turns, startled. He thought that she was still in the room changing. Remy heard the shower shut off about five minutes ago, but he never heard her pad her way to the kitchen, feet on hardwood making less of a noise than gauze on marble.

"I didn't know you were there," Remy says, attempting to keep his voice light, and failing.

"Jesus," Rogue whispers again, as the man in front of her turns to look at her horrified face.

His breath is trapped inside his chest at the sight of her. Standing in a black silk wrap-around shirt and a pair of jeans well worn in all the right places, she simply embodies everything he left behind. They were once Bella's clothes. Bella is the reason he ran the first time, and here is Marie, a reason to run again, only, unlike Bella, she is running with him.

Slowly she makes her way to him. Marie reaches a hand out to a nasty gouge on his shoulder. "Where...how...what happened?" she stammers.

"I have the scars to prove that love has had its way with me." Remy's breath comes out in stiff pants. His mind is screaming to get it together. His body appears unwilling to honor such a request.

"They must have hurt." Rogue winces, using a gloved hand to trace the crisscrossing scars marring the landscape of his right shoulder. "Where these made at the same time?"

Remy nods. "I was to marry the daughter of a rival guild, the Assassins, to bring an end to the fighting. Her brother didn't like the arrangement. He challenged me to a duel. He... lost. I was banished. That X on my shoulder is to tell anyone in either guild that I was thrown out."

Remy gets very quiet for a moment, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling of her black leather gloves on his scars. "Remy can never go back to New Orleans. They see me, they kill me."

"Then we will never go there," Rogue says, just loud enough to hear. "No wonder you thought Xavier's was a good idea."

Remy chuckles a little at this. "I guess you're right, _chère_. You want to go out?" he asks, taking both of her hands in his.

"Sure," Rogue answers.

"I know a great little place a few blocks from here. We could go."

The girl smiles. "That sounds nice."

--

The scent of Hank's last sip of coffee seems marred somehow. Another sharp sniff turns acrid and metallic in his nostrils. His eyes sweep the occupants of the room, finally resting on the three oozing puncture wounds in Scott's throat.

"My stars and garters," Hank gasps, upending his chair, trying to make his way to Scott.

"Oh," Scott says, words obscured by a mouthful of bagel. "It's nothing, I'm fine. I've nearly stopped bleeding now."

"Good heavens, Logan," Xavier says exasperated, reaching down in his desk drawer for a first-aid kit.

"What did you do to him, Logan?" Hank asks.

"I was... upset." Logan replies. His nose told him exactly what Scott had said--the bleeding is nearly done.

"Logan, while I appreciate your distress, I cannot have you attacking members of this house." Xavier begins.

"Can we please get back to what is important?" Scott yells over the confusion. "There are two students missing, having left with a modified motorcycle. They left five hours ago, and we have no idea where they are going."

The group calms down at this. Hank is the first to speak up. "You know, they are almost of legal age. We may have to accept that they may not be coming back."

"Oh, she's coming back," Logan growls, "if I have to track her down myself."

"Logan," Charles says soothingly, "as much as we all love Marie, you have to know that there is not much to do if she decides to leave."

Xavier's madding calm makes Scott snap. Crossing to the large desk, he slams the sheet of paper on its top.

"She's coming back. She said she is. I'm going to go get her before someone else gets her first."

Charles gingerly picks up the crumpled sheet. "I'll get Kurt and Ororo down here. Finish breakfast, and I will try to track them with Cerebro. Then we all will decide what course of action to take."

"Well, now we can find out if the carpet matches the drapes," Logan mutters offhandedly. Scott cringes as Hank chokes on his coffee.

--

"Mr. Magnus requests that you cancel your meeting with Warren Worthington and meet with him this morning instead."

The tall man towered over Alex, who was sprawled haphazardly on the pavement, papers and dig maps skittering on the wind in the alley next to his apartment.

At six feet, Alex Summers is not a small man. Years of archeological digs have carved hard muscles onto his frame. Alex takes a good look at the bestial man standing over him. While the cut of his navy-blue suit is impeccable, it is the look of the man wearing it that is wrong. This man, with a face that makes Grizzly Adams look like a young urban hipster in comparison, is not at ease in this three-piece suit, or in the middle of Hell's Kitchen, or any other such densely populated neighborhood, for that matter.

"Uh, I'm sorry, Mister..." Alex pauses.

"Creed." The large man answers, not liking where this is going. The blond man is to come back unharmed and that is no fun, especially if he is going to protest and make this difficult.

"Mr. Creed, please give Mr. Magnus my regrets, but I have been waiting over a year for this meeting with Worthington, and now I am going to be late." Alex says, grabbing the last map and depositing it neatly in his bag. "And since Mr. Magnus knows where I live, I am sure we can get together for a meeting at another date."

"I have no time for this," Mr. Creed says with a sneer. "Here are your options. You can either go to meet Worthington and beg for even a piece of what you need or you can come with me now and Mr. Magnus will hand you a blank check for this dig. He told me that. It's your choice." Again, Alex notes, this doesn't fit the man. The words were not his. He has been told what to say.

Alex stays silent, trying to decide what to do. Finally, he sighs. "Fine. I would love to meet with Mr. Magnus this morning."

"I thought you might." The large man says, indicating a large town car parked at the curb. Alex opens the back door and climbs in--to where, he does not know.

--

"Alright, what do we know?" Ororo asks calmly, legs crossed, eyes never leaving Kurt's body as he and Scott pass each other in their pacing.

"How could she leave?" Kurt asks. "This is the best place for her, _ja?_ She is not safe."

"Let's not forget, she's probably still got Scotty-boy's mutation." Logan adds, feeling the itch to go. Marie was out there, and he needed to bring her home.

Charles comes back in. "They are both outside of Chicago. They are both fine. They are in a Thieves Guild safehouse. Don't worry, the Guild isn't going there anytime soon. I checked."

"Why would that be a problem?" Kurt asks.

"They'll kill him," Logan answers.

"And Marie, for sport," Scott adds.

"I'd like to see them try." Hank replies.

"How is their training?" Ororo asks.

"Rogue's been training with me," Logan says. "She can handle herself."

"Remy has lived on the streets most of his life. He's good," Charles answers.

"And we do know that Rogue, at least, is coming back," Ororo starts. "Why not keep an eye on them with Cerebro? Let them go."

Charles grows quiet as the room explodes with the sound of angry voices all yelling at one another, placing blame and hurling accusations and insults.

"Logan and Scott will go and find her," Charles yells, both aloud and in their heads. The room falls silent; Scott cringes, holding his still hung-over head.

"I will go too," Kurt says resolutely.

Charles shakes his head. "No, Kurt. I'm sorry, but I am still trying to run a school. I need my teachers here."

"I'll let you know when we find her, Elf," Logan says.

"Why not let them go for the summer?" Ororo asks again.

"I have heard some things that I do not like," Xavier says. "Unfortunately, they revolve around Magneto and the Brotherhood. I would like to have two of my two most powerful students back here. Call it piece of mind."

Scott and Logan both stand.

"I've already transferred their coordinates to your car, Scott," Xavier says, turning his wheelchair to face the two men.

Both men nod.

"And please, be careful."

"Yes, Dad." Logan grumbles, opening the heavy office door, followed by Scott.

--

Standing in front of the large, ornately carved doors, Alex's heart pounds hard in his chest. Mr. Creed walks to the doorknob and tries the handle. Nothing happens. He takes a few steps back to stand next to the blond man once more.

"Don't you have a key?" Alex inquires.

"No need," the man-mountain growls.

The doors swing open, and a statuesque woman walks out. Alex can do nothing but watch her come up the rich claret carpet towards him. She is wearing a fitted purple button-up shirt over black pants. It is not what she is wearing that captures his attention; it is an incredible face, framed by long, cascading green curls that wind their way down her back, that leaves an indelible impression.

Alex watches dumbstruck as she brushes past the two men. He turns to look over his right shoulder to watch her walk out of the expansive mansion.

"Who...?" Alex starts. Finding that even with advanced degrees, he cannot put the end to that sentence together, instead he blurts out his real question. "Is that Mr. Magnus' mistress? His daughter?"

"Her?" Creed questions enjoying the show as much as the other man, a wild look crossing his face.

"Which is it?" Alex prompts, hoping for a small clue to the woman's identity.

Creed swings his attention to the man once more as the heavy door closes. "She," he pauses for emphasis, "is none of your business."

The door clicks open. "You can see Mr. Magnus now," Creed says curtly as Alex walks in. As the door swings shut, Creed turns away, ripping off the suit's jacket, shirt, and tie. Bits of now shredded fabric dance in the air. His obligation to Erik is complete.

The Italian wool suit never stood a chance.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Again with the can't-afford-to-have-you-sue-me speech. I am poor. The characters are not mine. I don't make any money off it at all, so suing me would be pointless. Reviewing however, will be richly rewarded by the karmic boomerang. Thank you.

Scott Summers lobs his bag into the trunk beside Logan's, and slams the lid of the trunk. He sees Logan leaning against the driver's side door.

"We gotta get goin', One-Eye."

"Fine, but I'm driving," Scott answers, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I don't think so, bub," Logan answers.

"Play you for it," Scott says.

"What?" Logan questions flatly.

"Come on. Rock-Paper-Scissors. They do play that in Canada, don't they, Wolverine?" Scott goads. "What, are you chicken?"

With a furrowed brow, Logan balls his right fist and places it in the palm of his left hand. Scott grins. Both men pound their fist in time.

Scott begins. "One, two, three..."

_Snikt._

"Well, if you're going to be that way about it." Scott grumbles.

"I don't play games, bub," Logan answers gruffly as he opens the car door. "I win them. Get in."

Scott slides into the passenger seat as the engine roars to life.

"Rock-Paper-Scissors?" Logan chuckles. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

Scott shakes his head a little. "I think I've still got Marie in my head."

"I know the feeling." Logan agrees, as the sports car peels out of the garage.

"After you, _chère_," Remy LeBeau says, holding the door open for Rogue. The inside of the bar is more dull and dank than the waning light of the city outside. It is the sort of place Logan might take apart once he is bored enough of drinking half their liquor stock. Above all, this is not the sort of place that could be considered mutant-friendly; in turn, this is also an establishment that doesn't ask questions.

The two young mutants take a seat in a dark back corner.

A tired-looking waitress wanders over. "Whatcha drinkin'?" she slurs. Rogue just blinks at her for a moment.

"Two beers," Remy answers. The waitress walks off without comment, and gets her ass slapped by a greasy man sitting at the bar as she walks by.

"Nice," Rogue comments flatly, as she runs her eyes around the bar to eye the other occupants.

"The beer's cold," Remy shrugs in a half-apologetic gesture.

Rogue gives him a half smile. "Well, Toto, ah don't think we're in Westchester anymore."

"_C'est vrai,_" Remy agrees. "That's true."

Remy watches as Rogue scan the room. Normally he leaves if the woman he is with is scanning the room for other people, but he knows who she is looking for. She's looking for trouble. As both Remy and Rogue glance towards the opening door, they think they may have found him.

The young, lanky man at the door is dressed in all black from head to toe, including gloves--at least Rogue thinks it's black; her color diferation is still skewed by the ruby-red goggles she is wearing as a precaution. The newcomer slides gracefully onto a barstool, brushes his unruly brown hair away from his face, and points to the Guinness on tap without saying a word. Not that it looks like he could if he wants to--his face is half-obscured by a strip of fabric covering the entire bottom half of his face, up and over the tip of his long, slender nose. Rogue watches the bartender pour the dark, grainy liquid into a half-dirty pint glass and slide it right under the younger man's nose. She is a little startled when a heavy mug of beer bangs and sloshes on the formica tabletop in front of her.

"Um, thanks," Rogue drawls, trying to hide her annoyance.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Remy questions. The last time he has seen her this quiet, this intense and focused, was in the Danger Room days ago.

"Something's about to happen, Remy. It ain't safe to be here."

"We just fine, _chère_," Remy soothes, taking her hand in his, rubbing the seam of her gloves with his fingers.

Rogue shakes her head. The men in her head--Logan, Scott and Erik--are tensed for a fight. They have seen this go down hundreds of times before. Now it is Rogue's body that they are tensing for a confrontation, not their own. Somewhere in the deep recess of her mind reserved for her and her alone, she vaguely hopes they do remember they are in the body of a 17-year-old girl.

She watches as the bartender walks over to the black-garbed man. "Y'know, you still gotta pay for it if even if you don't touch it."

The young man ducks his head further down and pointedly ignores the bartender. The interaction now draws the attention of the man who earlier violated the waitress.

"Hey, buddy, the man's talking to you," he slurs.

Once again, the man in black ignores the commotion.

"An' now I'm talking to you. You deaf, asshole? Or just stupid?"

The drunken man's friends laugh at this. The man in black still does not move. The drunken man stands up and staggers towards him.

"I said, I'm talkin' to you, motherfu..."

The man doesn't finish the sentence. The man in black stands up out of his seat and takes a step back.

Just leave me alone, you bloody wanker, a distinct Cockney voice echoes, cutting the other man off.

The entire bar goes silent. The man in black hasn't said a word, but his thoughts are projected into the minds of everyone in the bar.

The bartender grabs a shotgun from underneath the bar and places it near the man in black's temple.

"Get out of my bar, freak," he growls, cocking the shotgun.

Rogue has heard those words before. In a split second, she is on her feet and next to the man in black.

"Whatta ya'll say we make this more of a fair fight?" she drawls, nodding at Remy, standing by the table, to tell him to stay where he is.

Both the drunken man and the bartender laugh. "What're you gonna do, princess?" The bartender laughs. "Kiss him goodnight while we watch?"

"Hey," says the drunk man, who staggers over towards her. "Maybe she'll give us a little kiss, too."

The man in black balls his hands into fists as Rogue keeps talking. "What's your name, sugah?" she asks, dripping in Mississippi charm.

"Dirk." The drunk man replies.

She turns attention to the bartender.

"Chuck." He answers.

She looks at the man in black.

Jono, he answers, not knowing where this is going.

"Ah just like to know the names of the men ah'm kissin'," Marie purrs, as she turns and stands directly in front of Jono. She can feel Jono tense as she places his palms lightly on her hips. They are so close that she feels as if she should be breathing his air. It is then that she realises Jono is not breathing at all. He drops his head slightly to look into Marie's eyes.

"Trust me." She mouths.

"Get on with it, tart." The bartender yells, leaning closer. "It's my turn next."

Rogue turns to look at the man. "Hold yer horses, Chuck. Ah'll make it worth it," she says. She wraps her right arm around Jono's neck and places her left hand near the middle of his chest. She leans closer, pressing hard against Jono's shirt, surprised to not find taut muscle and bone. It was almost spongy.

Jono, on my signal, Rogue projects, Fall backwards.

Jono winks, indicating he understands.

NOW! Rogue's thought-screams

Jono leans back, the force of a leather-gloved hand thrusting his hips forward to meet hers, his hands giving her stability. Rogue's right fist swings, pulling her entire body weight behind a punch that lands square into the bartender's nose, dropping the man behind the bar.

Before anyone can react, a pink flash sails through the girl's peripheral vision. She grabs Jono and pulls him in the opposite direction as a section of the bar explodes, throwing debris into the air and raining down upon the occupants.

"Now it looks like a fair fight, _homme_," Remy says, emerging from the shadows, holding a glowing pink playing card in his right hand and a metal cylinder in his left. "No need to pick on a _fille_." With a slide of his thumb, the cylinder springs alive and telescopes from both ends, becoming a fighting staff.

A large man walks slowly from the back of the bar, holding a large lead pipe.

"This is my bar." The man says, hitting the pipe in the palm of his hand menacingly. "Three muties walk in... none walk out."

Oi, good luck with that, Jono projects, looking at the man.

The bar erupts with screams, insults and punches being thrown. Jono punches one drunk while Rogue kicks the kneecaps of another, dropping him to the ground. Her boots may not be steel-toed, but that doesn't mean that they don't feel like it. Chunks of wood splinter with each new explosion of a charged card.

Bracing himself on his staff, Remy vaults over a group of barflies. One of the brutes grabs the tail of his duster and wrestles him to the ground. Another cocks a pistol and puts the barrel of it to Remy's temple.

"Remy!" Rogue screams, watching helplessly. She does not see the swinging fist of a large biker coming towards her. The blow cracks her square in the jaw, knocking her to the rubble-strewn floor. She shuts her eyes tight with a moan as her glasses go slightly askew.

"That's for my brother, Chuck," The man says, looming over her.

Jono looks from the fallen Rogue to the imperiled Remy.

Bloody bastard, he screams in his head, knowing it is ringing in the minds of all of the occupants of the bar. He raises his hand to the cloth covering his face, and, to the surprise of everyone, orange electric lightning flows from where his mouth should have been, striking the man with the gun in the side of his ribs and sending him to the floor with a scream. Remy struggles with the other man when a beam of red light slams into the man, dropping him like a stone.

As Rogue kicks and punches at the biker, she can hear Logan in her head yelling at her to blast him, as Scott tells her not to. Marie knows she is too close. Her glasses will protect her, but at this short range a blast would be fatal. Logan and Erik are not seeing the problem.

Rogue is still busy fighting the biker when she hears the strangled thoughts of the telepath. Let me go, ya bastard. What ya're tryin' to do won't work.

"We'll see about that," The large man says, slamming the heel of his boot into the back of Jono's knees, dropping the Englishman to the floor. There the larger man could not only hold his pipe across Jono's throat, but up into his jaw line as well. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing." The pipe-carrying just wants to knock Jono out--he will be much easier to deal with later.

Rogue kicks the biker in the balls before running and jumping on an unexploded part of the bar by the big man.

"Let him go," Rogue says, crossing her arms and looking down at the man.

"Nice hair," the man answers. "Why don't you try and stop me, little girl?"

Rogue grabs both sides of the man's face and pulls his mouth to hers. She feels the man's shock turn to horror as she begins to drain him.

It is Rogue's turn to be horrified. She has drained regular humans before. This doesn't feel like that. This is a mutant. As the memories flood in, Rogue gasps, pushing the large man away from her, jumping off the bar.

Pulling Jono to his feet, she screams over the explosion of sound in the bar. "Remy!"

Remy's head whips around to the girl pulling the other man to his feet. He punches the last man and heads to her.

"Time to go, _chère_," Remy says, pulling her by the arm out the door of the bar. Rogue's other fist clutches the fabric of Jono's coat, dragging him along into the still, crisp Chicago night.

"Thanks," Remy says, offering his hand to Jono.

Cheers, Jono replies, taking it.

Remy motions towards the motorcycle. "Can you drive this thing, _homme_?"

Since I was ten, mate. Jono answers.

"Good. Take her someplace safe." Remy tosses the keys at Jono, who snatches them from the air.

I will. Jono answers.

"And what the hell are you gonna do?" Rogue asks.

"Run. So should you. They'll chase the one on foot and leave the bike alone. Cops pretty lazy like that," Remy answers.

"Don't look at me like that," Remy says, watching tears well in Marie's eyes. I've been outrunnin' the police since I was eight. This is easy as gumbo." He pulls her into his arms and places a kiss into her hair.

Rouge pushes against his chest, putting distance between the two. "You don't understand. The big man...the pipe guy. He's not a man. He's a girl...a woman. A mutant." She shudders, cursing herself both for not seeing this one coming and for not being able to articulate the urgency. "It's the Brotherhood, Remy. Forget the police, don't get caught by the Brotherhood."

Sirens scream in the distance.

"Just go." Remy yells.

Rogue runs to the bike.

"Take care of her." Remy tells Jono.

I will, mate. I won't let anything happen to her.

Jono turns to go before he is yanked around to face the Cajun once again.

"Jus' know, Remy don't share well with others." the Cajun growls at the man who is about to take not only his legitimately stolen bike, but his girl into the night.

No one's askin' yer t' share, mate, Jono answers, with a statement that can mean what he wants it to when the time comes. Too much has happened too fast to decide on anything other than running.

Jono turns and throws his leg over the bike where Rogue waits. Remy follows over to the bike, which roars to life.

Remy turns to go when a small hand reaches out and grabs his duster.

"Remy!" Rogue yells over the noise of the motorcycle. "Be careful!"

The bike roars away, wrenching the fabric out of her grasp.

"Always," Remy yells into the dust.

Rogue wraps her arms around Jono's chest, burying her face into the crook of the Englishman's neck as the tears come.

With Logan at the wheel, the miles slide past the windows at breakneck speed. The light has gone, and there is no time to waste. The bike is faster than the car, and with each passing moment, the two men in the car grow more tense. Each of them can hear Xavier's reasoning reverberating in their consciousness--Magneto is one the move again.

A crackle of static from the com-unit embedded in the dash brings the attention of both men.

"Yes, Professor?" Scott answers crisply.

"Scott, how close are you and Logan to Chicago?" Xavier asks.

"Half an hour," Logan answers. "She's not as fast as she used to be."

"Well, if she hadn't been set ablaze, she might be quicker," Scott retorts, bitterly.

"Not my fault, bub. I had a nine-millimeter round in my skull."

"Enough!" Cries a voice at the other end--a voice with a thick German accent. Both men look at each other. If Xavier has brought in Kurt Wagner, the news was about Marie--and it is probably not good.

"Gentlemen, please. Ororo has been scanning communications for hours. Apparently there has been a bar fight, in Chicago. The bar is in ruins. They suspect mutant activity. The bar was splintered by some sort of blast. The eyewitnesses say they are looking for three mutants--a girl and two men."

"Wait," Scott questions. "Two men, Professor?"

"Yes. I was afraid of this. A college of Dr. McCoy and myself contacted us two weeks ago. One of her students has gone missing. There was thought that he was coming to the United States. I think this is the other man."

"Well, who is he, and what can he do?" Logan asks, cutting to the chase.

"His mutation is actually quite simple," Dr. Henry McCoy answers.

"Then keep the explanation simple, Hank," Scott says, rubbing his temples hard.

"He is pure energy," Dr. McCoy replies. "When his mutation manifested, it did so quite explosively. He demolished an entire building in north London. Also, for lack of better words, he blew out his entire jaw, and his chest cavity. He is totally devoid of most vital organs, save his brain."

"Good God," Logan replies.

"How would we catch up to them?" Scott wonders aloud. "He doesn't eat, doesn't have to sleep."

"_Ja_, but Marie and Remy will," Kurt adds.

"I have programmed the coordinates of the bar to the car's computer," Ororo says. "It will be your best starting place."

"Agreed," Scott says. "We'll notify you when we get there."

"Good," Xavier answers. "I will attempt to track them using Cerebro."

"Scott, Logan," Ororo says. "Be careful."

"And, _bitte shöen, meinen Freunden, _bring her back," Kurt adds before the connection goes dead.

Alex takes a deep breath and walks into the large, opulent office.

"Mr. Magnus, I presume," Alex says to the older gentleman rising from behind a large antique oak desk.

"I trust your ride with Mr. Creed was comfortable," Mr. Magnus says, walking over to Alex, arms extended. "Welcome to my home, Mr. Summers."

Alex carefully observes the man as he takes his hand. His accent is a bit difficult to place. He sounds of a man highly educated in England, but not a native Englishman. That is obscured by the fact that he sounds as if he has been in the United States a long time. He is both regal and casual, in a pair of black trousers and a black button-down shirt, with wavy, silver hair and eyes that have seen more than their fair share of tragedy. His tone is warm and inviting, with a razor's edge that seems as if it would slice you to ribbons if the need arose. Alex is both terrified and fascinated.

"I must admit, I never thought that those words would ever come out of my mouth," the man says with a hint of a chuckle, as if laughing at a private joke.

"Why do you say that?" Alex questions.

"It is nothing," Mr. Magnus says, walking Alex over to a bar by the desk. "Let us just say your...reputation precedes you." He opens a decanter of brandy and pours two glasses.

"And please, Mr. Summers," Mr. Magnus says, handing a glass to Alex, "call me Erik."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Well, here it is...a brand new chapter for you to read. Okay, there is a small conversation in this chapter that was in the last chapter. That is because I am attempting to put everyone on the same timeline. So this chapter starts the morning that Scott and Logan leave to track Rogue and Remy. They have already left before this chapter starts. Once again, not mine, and make no money. Please review. Thank you.  
  
Teresa Cassidy and Rahne Sinclair meet Peter Rasputin and make their way down to the kitchen for breakfast.  
"I thought Kitty was going to meet us this morning," Rahne says to Teresa.  
"I did too, but when I woke up, she was already gone." Teresa shrugs. "I figured that it was her way to tell us to bugger off."  
"That doesn't sound like Kitty," Peter offers.  
"I know, but it's baseball season and she was watching the game," Teresa replies. "I think she's still upset about Bobby yelling at her yesterday."  
"Gee, I can't wonder why. He was a complete tosser to her. If I was her..." Rahne's soft Scottish brogue trails off in silence as she stops dead in her tracks. Like something from a cartoon, Teresa runs into the back of the girl, and Peter follows suit, knocking everybody off balance to tumble haphazardly on the plush carpeting of the hallway.  
"What the...?" Teresa and Peter both begin. They look up and follow Rahne's sight to Bobby Drake, snuggled comfortably on the sofa, with Kitty Pryde using him as a body pillow. "Well, that's new," Peter says softly behind Teresa's shoulder next to her ear. Both girls nod.

--

-- "Erik?" Alex Summers lets the word play on his lips. He runs a hand through his blond hair as a thought occurs to him. "You wouldn't happen to be Erik Lehnsherr, would you?"  
"I would."  
"Then why lie? The man, Creed, told me your name is Magnus."  
"It is. My name is Erik Magnus Lehnsherr. Victor has been an associate of mine for quiet a while now. Back then I was called Magnus. The name stuck, I suppose."  
"I guess it did," Alex agrees, at a loss for anything else to say. "Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Lehnsherr?"--

-- "What are you doing down there?" Jones asks, with Jamie Madrox in tow. Both boys are looking at the heap of international students piled on the floor at their feet.  
"Shhh!" Rahne hisses, pointing into the room.  
"What?" Jamie asks, craning his neck to look where the girl is pointing.  
"We're just trying to figure out when this happened," Theresa says. Peter nods shyly, feeling the girl move underneath him.  
"Last night," Jones answers plainly, pushing up the glasses on the bridge of his nose.  
"What happened?" Rahne asks excitedly. She never knows gossip first-- that's Jubilee's job--and Rahne is going to make the most of this opportunity.  
"Well, it looks like they made up," Jones says matter-of-factly. "He broke up with Rogue the day before yesterday, I think. Anyway, last night he told Kitty that he couldn't tutor her 'cause he couldn't sit in a stuffy library all summer and not touch her."  
"He said that to her?" Theresa asks in awe. Jones nods.  
"Ach, poor Rogue." Rahne says, wriggling her way out of the bottom of the pile. Peter promptly raises himself off Theresa and offers the girl a hand, which she accepts with a blushing thanks. "We should go find her and make sure she is okay," Rahne finishes.  
"But she's gone," Jamie says, wide-eyed.  
"What?" Peter says, now loud enough to cause the couple on the sofa in the other room to stir.  
"Yeah, I fell and stubbed my toe this morning on my way to the bathroom," Jamie explains. "One of my selves went to go get a drink of water while I got a band-aid and another me got antiseptic."  
"Now that's multi-tasking," Rahne murmurs to Theresa, who giggles lightly.  
"I walked past the Professor's door really early this morning, before eight. He was talking to Mr. Summers and Mr. Logan. He said Rogue and the new guy had taken off with Mr. Summers' motorcycle."  
"Rogue's run away with the new guy?" comes an excited, girly voice from the other room. Everybody turns their attention to Bobby and Kitty, whom they assumed were still asleep. They are somewhat dumbstruck at seeing Kitty sitting on Bobby's lap.  
"That's the rumor," shrugs Jones with an impish grin.  
"So what can we do?" asks Theresa.  
"What we always do," Bobby answers miserably. "Wait."  
"And keep a listen," Kitty says, with a grin that matches Jones'.  
"Sounds like someone's walking through walls again." Bobby grins at the girl in his lap. "That's the rumor." Theresa answers slyly. -- "And here I thought it was I who could help you."

--

Erik chuckles.  
"My dig."  
"Ah yes, your archeological expedition. Tell me, Mr. Summers, what are you looking for?"  
Alex feels as if Erik's eyes are piercing deep into his soul. His first instinct is to flee.  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Lehnsherr. I don't think you can help me. I'm just going to go now. Maybe I can even reschedule my appointment with Mr. Worthington. I have to go," Alex says, with a straight-backed efficiency that effectively erases the last shred of doubt of who is standing in front of him. This could prove complicated, if Xavier is to know of him, Magneto thought to himself. As far as the aged mutant knows, his old friend is still in the dark, and for that, a part of him is grateful.  
Alex turns quickly and places a hand on the wrought-iron doorknob. It won't budge.  
"How long have you been hiding?" Magneto says in a hushed tone. "All your life, am I right?"  
Alex stops. "I don't understand. hiding what?"  
"My dear boy, you are a mutant, are you not?"  
Alex turns slowly to face Magneto. "How did you know?"  
Magneto chuckles. "Let's just say we can smell our own."

--

-- "How do we get in to listen?" Theresa asks in a furtive whisper. The group has gathered for lunch at the bar in the kitchen.  
"We don't. I do." Kitty answers, watching the faces of her friends fall. "Like, it's a tiny closet," she answers.  
"So when do we send you into this wee closet?" Rahne asks.  
"When Mr. Wagner goes into the office," Peter answers. Everyone gives the large Russian a puzzled look. "Let's just say he has a--how do you say--a vested interest in Rogue." The rest of the table stil stares at the shy Russian. "Just, trust me on this."  
"All right, Peter," Bobby says. "We'll just keep an eye out for Mr. Wagner."  
"What do we do 'til then?" Jamie asks, still mopey. He's felt a little abandoned since his best friend Sam Guhrie went home to Kentucky for the summer. Kitty grins mischievously. "Anyone want to play Phase 10?"  
  
--  
  
"Is that why you're interested in my dig?" Alex questions.  
"Yes, of course, your dig," Magneto says, carefully opening a folder on his desk. "It says here that you have an interesting theory concerning the Cave of Lescaux."  
A puzzled look crosses Alex's face. "That's the basis of my Master's thesis, yes. It doesn't have anything to do with my dig."  
"It has been years since you have even used your mutation, hasn't it?"  
Alex sighs resignedly. "I used to go to the firing range when I was in high school," he answers, a nervous tinge to his voice. "I'd set up targets and try to scorch them from a hundred paces."  
"Who found you?" Magneto asks with a smile, as if he has heard the story before.  
"My mother," Alex answers quietly. "Actually, my adoptive mother. The woman who raised me. My parents died when I was four. But then of course, you probably already knew that, didn't you?"  
"Yes, I did." Magneto says cordially.  
"What else do you know about me, Mr. Lehnsherr?"  
Please, call me Erik," he says, beginning to pace around his office. "I know you were fifteen or so when your mutation manifested. I know you've been hiding your mutation ever since. That takes an extraordinary amount of control, to be sure. I know that your power is solar-based. I know that it terrifies you."  
"Why would it terrify me?"  
Erik turns his attention squarely to Alex once more. "Because you like it. You enjoy the power, the precision, the strength. Don't you? It may terrify you, to be sure, but you love the power."  
"How do you know this? How do you know that I like it?"  
"Because we are remarkably alike, Mr. Summers. And I have a proposition for you."  
  
--  
  
Kitty's new obsession is a card game her mother sent her from home called Phase 10. Her mom thought Kitty would find the name cute. Theresa has been forced to play it ever since. Not that she minds too much--the game is fun, and a good way to put off studying.  
Kitty, Theresa, Rahne, Peter, Bobby, Jones, and Jamie all sit around on the Persian rug across from the Professor's office, in an alcove with floor-to-ceiling windows, having moved antique tables and chairs out of the way to make room for the large circle of mutants all holding cards in their hands. Each wear expressions ranging from smug glee to confusion to downright unamusement at their hands.  
The summer sun has already set across the expansive grounds, and stars twinkle their presence through the glass onto the card game, before Ororo Munroe and Kurt Wagner stumbled onto the students.  
"Phase 10 again, Kitten? I should have known." Ororo smiles.  
Kurt offers a pre-occupied laugh. "I see our little Katzchen has made you play a hand too, liebling."  
"What? It's a good game," Kitty pouts playfully. She feels her heartbeat rise in her chest as she watches her teachers be greeted by Dr. Hank McCoy outside of the Professor's office. The adults murmur to each other, nod, and enter.  
"It's time," she whispers, abandoning the best hand she has had all afternoon. All seven students stand in unison, each wearing the exact same faces they do when they enter the Danger Room with Mr. Summers for training. They are working their own mission now, against some of the best- trained mutants in the world, and it's all their hides if they get busted.  
  
"Ready?" Bobby asks Kitty. She nods her response. "Godspeed," Theresa says, reflexively crossing herself as Shadowcat phases through the wall.

--

-- ::Where do want to go?:: Jono Starsmore thinks aloud. He offers a mental smile Rogue can sense as he feels her stir against his back.

::I really don't know,:: she replies.

::Are you hungry? Can't say I am, luv,:: Jono answers. ::I could watch you eat, though. What are you in the mood for?::

:: Anything, really. We should try and keep a pretty low profile for a while, though.:: She unconsciously rubs her jaw where she knows angry purple bruises are gleefully joining the other, older one, still mostly obscured by her glasses. ::I've been runnin' all day, sugah. I'm not sure how many more bar fights I can take today.::

::Fish and chips at my place, then,:: Jono says, taking a sharp turn onto a side street.

Rogue grins. ::You cookin' for me, darlin'?::

::Never learned how. Never saw the bloody point, really. I'm renting a flat above a fake English pub pretty cheap. The owner thinks it's a laugh to have a true Brit staying at his place.::

::Is it safe?:: Rogue asks.

::As safe as we get tonight.::

::Then, to your flat it is.::

--

Kitty releases a sigh of relief as she finds she has phased into the Professor's closet. The very first time she ever tried this, she passed into Xavier's liquor cabinet. Her hair smelled of Cognac for a week.  
She can hear bits and pieces of the conversation the adults are having. Words like mutant, Scotland, Magneto, sister, and Chicago are mingled with Germanic mutterings. Obscuring it all is frantic nervous whispers from her friends, directly behind her. The closet is stuffy, and Kitty is getting annoyed at her lack of information. She sticks her head through the wall to her friends, shushing them silently, as she reaches for Bobby's shirt. She forcably pulls him through the wall with her.  
She places one finger across his lips and fans herself with her other hand. Bobby nods his understanding, and wills the air temperature around them to cool. Both of the young mutants then focus their attention to the conversation at hand.  
"Do you know where they could be?" Hank asks.  
"We believe they are still in the Chicago area," Ororo replies. "There is no reason to think otherwise."  
"Is there any news about them?" Kurt asks, his accent growing thicker with worry.  
Through the gap in the door, Kitty sees the Professor nod.  
"There was a bar fight five minutes ago." Ororo says. "The Chicago Police Department suspects mutant activity. They are looking for three young adults--a girl with two-toned hair and two men, one with red-on-black eyes and one with leather covering his face." "Sound like anyone we know?" she asks with a quirky twist of the lips.  
"Starsmore?" Hank asks.  
Kitty gives Bobby a look. Bobby shrugs his answer--he doesn't know who Starsmore is either.  
"It looks that way." Charles says.  
"How did they know about him?" Hank asks, concern tainting his voice.  
"Stryker had a file on him. Now, it's in Mystique's possession."  
"The Brotherhood is looking for him." Ororo says.  
"Why? Do we know that for sure?" Kurt asks.  
"We don't know why," the Professor answers. "It's hard to track the movements of the Brotherhood with Cerebro. They have been taught extensively how to stay off the radar screen. It can be quite frustrating."  
"They made an egregious error, however," Hank says with a grin. "They brought an immature mutant with them. His X-gene is still showing on Cerebro."  
Ororo gasps and Hank nods with a grin.  
"Yes, Goddess. St. John Allardyce is in Chicago."  
"I think it's time to call Logan and Scott." Charles says, activating the comlink.  
  
A crackle of static from the com-unit embedded in the dash brings the attention of both Wolverine and Cyclops. "Yes, Professor?" Scott Summers answers crisply. Kitty feels Bobby's hand clutch hers tight in the darkness of the closet.

"Scott, how close are you and Logan to Chicago?" Xavier asks.

"Half an hour out," Logan answers. "She's not as fast as she used to be."

"Well, if she hadn't been set ablaze, she might be quicker," Scott retorts, bitterly. Bobby stifles a laugh as Kitty shushes him.

"Not my fault, bub. I had a nine-millimeter round in my skull at the time." It is Kitty's turn to be hushed as she lets out a gasp audible enough to bring the weather witch's attention for a split second before Kurt brings her attention square on her lover.  
  
"Enough!" Cries a voice at the other end--a voice with a thick German accent. Both Scott and Logan look at each other. If Xavier has brought in Kurt Wagner, the news was about Marie--and it is probably not good.  
  
Charles and Hank wear the same look as Scott and Logan. "Gentlemen, please. Ororo has been scanning communications for hours. Apparently there has been a bar fight, in Chicago. The bar is in ruins. They suspect mutant activity. The bar was splintered by some sort of blast. The eyewitnesses say they are looking for three mutants--a girl and two men."

"Wait," Scott questions. "Two men, Professor?"

"Starsmore's a mutant?" Bobby whispers. Kitty shrugs.

"Yes. I was afraid of this. A colleague of Dr. McCoy and myself contacted us two weeks ago. One of her students has gone missing. There was thought that he was coming to the United States. I think this is the other man."

"Well, who is he, and what can he do?" Logan asks, cutting to the chase. "His mutation is actually quite simple," Dr. Henry McCoy answers. "Then keep the explanation simple, Hank," Scott says, rubbing his temples hard.  
  
Bobby grins. He's always liked Mr. Summers, and can sympathise with his frustration.  
  
"He is pure energy," Dr. McCoy replies. "When his mutation manifested, it did so quite explosively. He demolished an entire building in north London. Also, for lack of better words, he blew out his entire jaw, and his chest cavity. His body is now totally devoid of most vital organs, save his brain."

"Good God," Logan's voice crackles slightly on the com-link.  
  
Kitty can all but feel the man's frustration.  
  
"How would we catch up to them?" Scott wonders aloud. "He doesn't eat, doesn't have to sleep."  
  
"Ja, but Marie and Remy will," Kurt says, resuming his pacing.

"I have programmed the coordinates of the bar to the car's computer," Ororo says. "It will be your best starting place."  
  
"Agreed," Scott says. "We'll notify you when we get there."  
  
"Good," Xavier answers. "I will attempt to track them using Cerebro."

"Scott, Logan," Ororo says. "Be careful."  
  
Ms. Munroe uses the same tone with Kitty when she begins to overdo it in the Danger Room. Nothing the girl has heard tonight worries her like that tone of voice. The seriousness of the situation settles home deep in the pit of Kitty's belly. The Brotherhood is after her friend, and it is time to figure out how to bring them back. She now understands the change in look Bobby and Peter now get when they go into the Danger Room. They both have been in combat situations and understand what it will take to get the job done. Kitty can feel it in her now. It gives her purpose. The next statement broke the heart of everyone who could hear it.

"And, bitte shöen, meinen Freunden, bring her back," Kurt adds before the connection goes dead.  
  
Kurt sits into a crouch, his tail resting limply on the floor. Ororo drops to her knees in between Kurt's thighs. Hank goes to say something comforting, and is stopped by a gentle hand on his elbow. He turns to face Charles Xavier, and heeds the gentle shake of the Professor's head.  
"We'll meet back here at eight tomorrow morning, if there is no pressing information in the middle of the night," Xavier says. "Ororo, we should also consider notifying the reserve teachers. We may need them." The remaining team members mumble their understanding and bid each other good night.  
Kitty breathes a sigh of relief. Her head feels as if it is about to burst. Bobby looks to be in almost the exact same shape. There is a lot of information to sort through, and their friends are going to want answers immediately. Kitty takes Bobby's hand and begins to phase her and Bobby back into the hallway. She feels a large, heavy hand on her head pushing her back into the closet. With a disgruntled snort, she starts the phase back through again when Bobby grabs her wrist hard and shakes his head. She presses her ear to the back of the wardrobe and can hear Ms. Munroe's voice just on the other side of the plaster.  
  
"I see all of you are still playing," Ororo says, looking at her students almost exactly where she left them. Kitty and Bobby are gone, their cards turned over, and Peter sitting with his back against the wall, cards in hand.  
"Peter, what are you doing all the way over there?" Kurt asks. "Where's Bobby and Kitty?"  
"They went to the bathroom," Theresa answers without looking up from her cards.  
"I'm here because they were... peeking," Peter says, giving Ororo his most innocent smile. Few knew the truth--that smile is never innocent. Thankfully, Ororo is not among those in the know. "Well, don't stay up too late," Kurt says as he and Ororo make their way down the hall.

A small rap on the wall tells Kitty it's time to leave their hiding place. "My room. Ten minutes." Kitty says quickly, walking down the hall away from the others so everyone can come from different directions and not rouse suspicions from the group of already on-edge teachers.  
  
--  
  
Hours pass slowly despite the adrenaline coursing through Remy's veins. He jumps his last rooftop, finally landing on the roof of the safehouse. Lightly, he drops to the doorstep, and with a last glance around he begins to expertly pick the lock. In fifteen seconds, he opens the door.  
For the second time in his life he is met with a fist full of claws so close to his throat he can nearly taste the adamantium.  
Remy gives an easy smile to Logan. "Didn't we leave you in another time zone, mon ami?"  
"We are not friends," Logan growls. "Where is she, bub?"  
"Who you looking for?" Remy asks with as much charm and innocence as he can muster given the fact that he could swear his life is flashing before his eyes. Immediately Remy begins to work his fingers out of the riding gloves that he had lifted out of Logan's own pocket days earlier. He allows the glove to slide soundlessly to the floor, and slowly brings his bare hand toward Logan's fist.  
"Touch him and I will hit you where you stand, do you hear me?" a stern voice says from somewhere behind Logan.  
"You heard de homme, wild man," Remy says, dripping with smug bravado. "Let me go."  
Logan grins evilly. "He was talking to you, bub. I wouldn't test him. Accuracy is part of his mutation. You wouldn't want to go screwin' around takin' chances on mother nature, would ya?"

::Maybe this is better,:: Remy thinks. ::Maybe dey could bring Marie back. Then again, maybe dey'd kill him on simple principle.:: Remy nods his head.

"Good, now tell me where Marie is."

"Remy don't know," the Cajun answers clearly.

"Tell him, or I swear to God I will send you straight back to the Bayou on the end of an optic blast," Cyclops says coldly. Logan looks over his shoulder at the leader of the X-Men and wonders what Scott has gotten himself into. Now with another member of his team in danger, he is afraid Scott is losing it. He likes it.

"I mean it. I don't know." Remy explodes. "I put her on de bike. I put her on de bike wit' de Anglais wit' no face."

"Who's driving?" Logan growls.

"Jono his name. English kid."

"You did what?" Scott steps quickly into Remy's view. balling his fist in Remy's shirt, he rips the boy out of the claws of Logan and pushes Remy firmly causing him to land on the sofa. "You put Rogue in the protection of a complete stranger and left him in control of where they were going?"

Logan crosses to Scott, who is advancing on Remy. ::Christ, now I have to be the responsible one here, Logan thinks. If he knew, Wheels would shit.:: He retracts his claws and grabs Scott's arm firmly as Remy takes a deep breath.

"Why did ya do that, Gumbo?" Logan asks, his patience rapidly thinning. "Had to. Couldn't risk her getting caught by de police."

"Rogue's a big girl, with impeccable training. She can take care of herself. We'd have come and got her. Why put her on my motorcycle with a complete stranger?" Scott asks, the calm, measured teacher's voice reemerging from the rage.

"I had no choice." Remy slumps further into the cushions of the sofa before looking up into the looming, furious face above. "You don't get it. I couldn't protect her. I knew I had to, but I couldn't. I saw what she did to de lab. I saw what she could do in de bar. She'd be locked up. You honestly think they'd let her keep her glasses? She would've been blind. I thought he could do it better. That maybe he could protect her, because I knew I couldn't. And I left him every means available to me, and that meant your bike."  
"Here's what's going to happen, bub. You are going to tell us everything that went on in that bar, and we are going to find her," Logan growls, dropping himself in a chair waiting for the story to begin. "Don't leave anything out."

Without preamble, Scott's hand snaps out and pulls Remy up by his shirt with such force that it rips under Cyclops' fingers. The older man seems to take no notice. "Something you should know, kid. Something you don't seem to get. You want protection for her, don't you?"  
Remy nods mutely.  
"You're looking at it." Scott's voice rumbles from his chest. "We protect her."  
--

-- She can hear Jono come back up the rickety set of steps. He peers around the corner to look at her. In one hand is a large plate of fish stacked upon heaps of chips; in the other, a large pint of dark liquid. ::Hope you're hungry. They piled it on, yeah?::

"Ah haven't eaten in a while, sugah. Hope you brought your own." Rogue smiles, sitting on the floor. This a lot smaller than the safehouse-- cozier somehow, with less furniture, but it looks as if it is more lived- in, and it makes her feel safe.

::No need.:: Jono shook his head with a hint of melancholy, handing her the plate and placing the glass on the floor to her right. ::I don't eat, love. You'll enjoy that though, yeah? Smells just like home.::

"Why don't you eat?" Rogue asks dropping a chip into her mouth. ::It's the mutation, love. My body is filled with psionic energy. When it first manifested, it blew my bloody chest apart. I have no jaw, no throat, no heart, no lungs and no stomach. I should be dead, but the energy is keeping everything alive. I'm also a half-arsed telepath. Compensation for havin' no mouth. It's not that I have full telepathic capability--just enough to be able to talk to someone, and project images only to someone close.::

"Sweet Jesus," Rogue exclaims. "That's horrible."

Jono's eyes twinkle in what she takes to be a smile. ::It's not as bad as all that.:: Rogue gives him a critical look. ::All right, its complete bollocks, but I'm alive.::

"You seem to be taking this very well." Rogue says. "When my powers first came, Mein Gott, it was terrifiying."

::So just what are your powers, exactly? I know you kissed the bloke in the pub and he dropped like a stone, but there was the red lasers that came out of your eyes.::

"All part and parcel, ah'm afraid." She smiles kindly. "My power is that ah can drain a person's life force by touching them, if they're human. If ah touch a mutant, then ah can take their powers for a short or a long time, depending on how long ah stay connected to them. Either way, we stay connected long enough, and they're dead."

::Bloody hell,:: Jono replies.

"Yeah. And the optic blasts ain't mine; ah 'm just borrowin' them. They belong to my teacher. Ah can't control my power, so ah can't touch anyone without hurting them."

::Your teacher?::

"Yeah," she nods, "Ah live at a school in upstate New York. It's full of people just like us."

::Why did you leave?:: Jono asks quietly.

Rogue smiles sadly. "Ah was hurtin' a lot of people. Ah gotta wear these glasses for ah don't know how long. Ah still have my teacher's power 'cause ah nearly killed him this morning." She looks at the clock in the room; it reads 1:36. "Or yesterday morning, ah guess. Ah don't know. Ah'm so confused." Rogue rubs her hands on her face under her glasses.

::Why don't you get some sleep? I'll stay up and make sure no one comes to get us.:: Jono's eyes crinkle; this time she knows this is a smile to make her feel better.

"Ah'm sure we'll be fine. You can sleep too, if you want." Rogue yawns.

::Energy never sleeps,:: Jono thinks sadly. ::Here ya go.:: Jono takes a pillow from the other side of him and places it on his left thigh. ::I don't have a bed. I think with this, we've got it sorted though, yeah?:: he thinks, his uncertainess seeping through his telepathy.

Rogue smiles a warm smile. "Don't mind if ah do." She scoots herself down to lay her head upon the pillow. Nuzzling down, she slips her right palm under his leg and sighs. When she was a little girl, she would curl up on the porch swing with her Daddy just like this as he watched the stars. She is asleep before Jono can reach the remote and turn on the telly.

--

-- "Wait, back up, Remy." Scott interupts. "What was that again?"

The Cajun sighs, getting tired of the interrogation. "She jumped up on the bar and kissed de big guy."

"That's when she began to panic." Scott prompts.

"Oui, she say we gotta go."

"What did she say when she left?" Logan asks.

"She say be careful an' not get caught by her brother."

Scott snaps his head to the boy. "Rogue doesn't have a brother."

"That she knows about," Logan mumbles under Scott's glare.

"Her brother?" Scott repeats, trying to get her meaning.

"Oui, she say forget the police, and don't get caught by de brother."

Scott and Logan's eyes meet. "Brotherhood, Gumbo. Not brother."

"Who was dat guy?" Remy asks.

"Mom," Logan answers, knowing this little search just got more urgent.

"What?" Remy questions.

"Nothing," Scott snaps sharper than necessary.

"All right. Look, I'm starving. Let's take a break and get some food." Logan says.

"It's a little late, homme. Thinkin' Remy can still order pizza."

Scott shakes his head. "Not enough protein for Logan." Wolverine turns to offer a confused look to the man. "I still have Rogue in my head," Scott answers. "She knows a great deal about what you need."

"Yeah, she does." Then Logan says something Remy never expected. The Wolverine man smiles before his expression turns serious once more. "I'm still goin' to kill her for leaving."

"Join the club," Scott says, patting Logan on the shoulder.

--

-- "Did you honestly think we'd just let you take our sister?" A tall man asks coming nose to nose with Rogue.

"What you mean, mes amis?" Rogue asks before a punch to her stomach drops her to her knees gasping for air.

"You know exactly what the hell we talkin' 'bout," another man yells at her. She can now make out the forms of three large men. The one closest to her is carrying a lead pipe. She makes a blind grab for the pipe and misses. She gets hoisted to her feet and struck across the jaw for her trouble.

"Bella is our sister. You will not marry her."

"Look, Remy don't think you understand. I'm marryin' Bella. There will be no guild competition. There'll only be money for us all."

"Over my dead body. We settle this like Assassins, Thief. We just fight 'til one of us don't get up."

Rogue's swollen eyes open amid shrieks of rage. Her head is splitting and she does know how to make the sound stop. "You killed my brother, you bastard! He's dead because of you!" Rogue squints to see a statuesque woman with blond hair being held back by a large man whose arms are wrapped around hers.

"Well, you done it now," says an older man crouched at Rogue's side. Rogue turns her head to look at the man's face.

"What'd I do, Jean-Luc?" She slurs. New levels of pain explode behind her eyes as Jean-Luc laughs at his protegé.

"Why, I think ya just mighta pissed off the petite fille here, Remy."

"He was gonna kill me," Rogue says, trying to clear the dirt from her throat.

"She don't seem too worried about that too much now, does she?"

"I want his throat!" screeches Bella Donna, kicking hard at the man holding her away from the target of her rage.

"Bella!" booms a commanding voice from behind the blond woman. The entire alley falls into a silence as Marius Boudreaux, leader of the Assassins' Guild walks into view.

"Well, what we gonna do about this mess, Jean-Luc?" Boudreaux asks.

"It was a fair duel," Jean-Luc LeBeau says easily. "Everybody else say Remy didn't start it. I say we leave it up to Bella Donna. Julien was her brother, after all."

"Well, Bel," Marius says, "I suppose it's up to you. What do you want to do with your fiancée?"

Bella Donna wriggles her way out of the large man's arms. She straightens and smoothes her shirt across her abdomen. Rogue can hear the click of Bella's heels on the cobblestone of the alley behind the gin joint. She crouches down in front of Rogue and pulls her up by her duster so she is slumped against the wall.

"Remy, I've loved you since the first moment I looked into those haunting eyes. I love you now more that ever, and I was proud to be yours." She slides her hands up Rogue's chest, hooking her hands in the collar of her duster, sliding it off her arms in a heap behind her. She gently takes Rouge's face in her hands and brings her mouth down on her lips. It is the softest thing Rogue has ever felt. Too quickly, Bella Donna stands and walks away from Rogue.

She watches as the blond woman walks over to the man who was once holding her back. She plunges her hand into an inside pocket of the man's leather jacket, slipping something onto her hand. Bella Donna turns and walks purposefully to Rogue.

What's left of Rogue's breath gets stuck in her throat at the look in Bella's eyes. It is if she is no longer human. Her red, bloodshot eyes are wild, and her blond hair gets caught in the wind. Rogue is reminded of Logan in a berserk streak, but with the rage only a scorned woman can harness. Rogue watches as Bella balls her fist. With every inch of woman and every ounce of rage, she connects her fist to Rogue's jaw. Rogue instantly hits the cobblestone, and can do nothing but watch the blood from her mouth pool and run along the canals formed by the cobbles. Rogue feels her chin being lifted slightly to look upon Bella's face once more.

"I don't love you anymore," the blond woman growls. She spits in Rogue's face, and drops Rogue's chin to hit again on the pavement. Bella turns around to stare at the men gaping at her.

"Both guilds are here tonight," she screams. "You want the fighting to end? It ends tonight. As a show of good faith to the Thieves' Guild, I will let Remy LeBeau live. He just can't live here. If anyone sees Le Diable Blanc in New Orleans again, kill him. If someone does not, it will be seen as an act of treason, and as God as my witness, I will deal with you myself." She turns to the two guild patriarchs. "Deal?"

Both Jean-Luc LeBeau and Marius Boudreaux nod.

Bella turns once again on Rogue, who watches as Bella flips a long sharp blade from her brass knuckles. She places a high-heeled boot firmly in the center of Rogue's back. Rogue has to bite back a scream as Bella grinds her heel between vertebrae. In one smooth move, Bella reaches down and cuts away Rogue's shirt from her back. Bella leans down and whispers almost sweetly into the other girl's ear, "You have twenty-four hours, chère. Get the fuck out of Louisiana." Rogue feels the blade bury itself into the flesh and muscle of her shoulder, and screams.

"Storm!" She feels strong arms wrap around her, pulling the girl into a lap to be cradled and soothed.

::Chamber,:: comes a small but distinct voice in her head. The pain is gone. The stones are gone. The woman is gone. Instead, her senses are filled with a smell of beer and fish.

"Chamber," she echoes meekly, feeling her heart begin to slow in reality. "Chamber," she echoes again, as tears and exhaustion claim her once again into the blackness of sleep.

--

-- Rogue's eyes slam open as she feels someone straddling her hips. "I always fantasized about seeing you like this," St. John Allerdyce says as he looks down at the girl trying to fight under him.

"John!" Rogue screams, wriggling her legs in an attempt to kick herself free.

"Oh girl, I always knew you had a thing for me," John snickers, grabbing at Rogue's wrists. "But I don't think this is the best time."

"Get off me!" Rogue screams.

"Shut that bitch up," says a gruff, feral voice from somewhere else in the small apartment.

"Gladly," John answers.

"Sweet dreams, sugah," drawls John in a mock Mississippi accent, placing a red cloth over her nose and mouth.

Rogue feels a bare hand slide across her stomach. Her eyes dart to see Jono tied up next to her, his back facing her, a gloveless hand stretched as far as it can go, resting almost expectantly on her stomach between her body and John's. Rogue can feel herself slipping into unconsciousness. She musters up the strength to open her mind as wide as she can and scream telepathically to one person to whom she already has the strongest connection.

::Scott!::

--

-- Scott is jerked awake, sitting upright on the sofa. "Logan!" Scott yells.  
  
Logan jerks awake in the chair, completely conscious, claws instantly drawn. "What is it?" Scott looks at Logan and blinks, trying to process the information flooding his brain. "Time to go. The Brotherhood has Rogue." 


	12. Chapter 12

Logan reaches over on the side table and activates the comlink, waking a slumbering German man seven hundred miles east out of a sound sleep.

"What time is it, _liebchen_?"  Kurt Wagner's sleepy voice fills the room, waking Remy LeBeau in the corner. 

"It's about 4:30 here, snuggle-elf."  Logan says.  Remy snickers quietly.

"Herr Logan?" 

"Where's Professor Xavier?"  Scott Summers asks, snatching the comlink from Logan's grip.

"He's asleep," Kurt answers.  "Ororo took the comlink for the night." 

"Kurt…" Ororo Munroe's voice can be heard.

"Ororo, it's Scott.  The Brotherhood has Rogue.  I don't know where they are taking her.  We're going to need a full team.  I need you to add the three combat-ready students.  Outfit them and bring them with you.  Call us when you get the jet in the air."

"Scott, are you completely sure?" Ororo asks, her voice sounding nervous.

"Storm, wake them," Scott says sharply.  He closes the connection and looks at Logan, who gives him a reassuring nod.

--

::Rogue!::

Silence

::Rogue...You gotta wake up, love,:: Jonothan Starsmore thinks desperately.  ::Please, poppet, wake up.:: 

     Groggy, Rogue opens her eyes to look into Jono's worry-laden orbs.  She smiles so weakly that it makes Jono instantly more worried, a feat he previously believed to be impossible. 

"Well, that's the last time ah'm sleepin' at your place," Rogue finally groans.

Jono's eyes crinkle, smile-like once more.

     ::What happened back there?::  Rogue asks mentally.

     ::I really don't know.  I was watching the telly when someone grabbed me from behind and trussed me up.  It happened so bloody fast, you didn't even wake up until that bloke attacked you.::

     ::That's where my memory comes in.::

     ::Did it work?::  Jono asks anxiously.

     "Hey, they're awake."  Pyro's voice comes from somewhere in the van.  "We should go back and say hi."

     "Leave 'em alone,"  Toad's voice echoes from the same direction.  "We'll be there soon."

     "It'd be rude to ignore them,"  Pryo adds. "We'd be bad hosts."  Rogue knows he just wants to come back to gloat.

     "Sit down and shut up," rumbles a voice that makes her heart sink.  It was Sabretooth.  That part, his voice from earlier, was flooding back to her now.

     "Which barrel did Erik find him under?"  Toad asks to Sabretooth, voice low.

     Rogue snickers to herself.  ::Ah think it did work.  Scott is at the safe house, ah think, with Logan and Remy.  The only way ah'd know that is 'cause it worked.  Did ah hurt you?::  Her eyes look into his filled with worry.

     ::Not a bit. One question, though: When did they start numbering mutants?::

     ::Not yet, why?::

     ::(Erik's number)  for some reason I can't get that number out of my head.  I don't understand what it means.::

     ::It's Magneto's number.  He's a Holocaust survivor.  It's very complicated but… His psyche is in my head.  For some reason, when ah try to drain you or Scott, my teacher, you can share in my memories, even those memories that don't really belong to me.  You ain't very strong in my head now, though.  Probably because ah wasn't paying attention to you at the time.::

     ::When we get where we're going, you should probably try again and tell them where we are,::  Jono thinks as quietly as he can, just in case he is projecting.

     ::It would help.  You sure ah didn't hurt you?  If you hold on too long, ah can kill you.::  Rogue says.

     "Well, well...Bobby's girl.  Does our little snowman know you've been out runnin'?" 

The van turns.  Jono, who was kneeling in the van next to the girl, loses his balance and falls heavily on Rogue.

 "Good God, Rogue, what would Bobby say if he could see you now?"  Pyro says.

"Ah ain't Bobby's girl no more," Rogue says quietly.  Jono pulls himself to his knees before slumping next to Rogue against the side of the van.

     There is a silence before the next statement comes, a bit to close for comfort.  "Yes Rogue, but the question is, where you ever really Bobby's girl?  I always thought you'd wind up in my bed."

     "Ah did love him."  She answers quietly.

     John Allardyce's face materializes out of the darkness.  "Yes, but I saw the way he looked at our pretty Kitty, all sweet, innocent... touchable."

     "It don't matter much now, does it?"  Rogue says, her voice growing cold.

     "I suppose not, but it might matter to your mummy with no face over here," Pyro says, eyes glittering with malice.

     ::Oh, go play with yourself, flamer,::  Jono snaps.

     "Tough words from a guy with no mouth."

     "Pryo, sit down and shut up," Toad yells, "or you train all day with Sabretooth tomorrow."  Pyro is silent for the entire rest of the trip.

     ::I take it you know that bloke?::  Jono asks.

     ::Ah thought ah did,::  Rogue sighs miserably as she lays her head on Jono's shoulder for comfort.

     ::Is he always such an arse?::

     ::Usually.::

--

     Three sharp raps on the door wake Bobby Drake from a sound slumber.  Eyes still cloudy from sleep, the boy hauls himself from his bed, clad only in a pair of sweatpants, and opens the door. There stands the large, furry, cerulean frame of Dr. Henry McCoy, his stony, leonine face impressing upon Bobby that something serious has happened. 

"Young Master Drake, it's time."

     "Time for what, Doc?"  Bobby asks.

     "We need you for a mission.  Meet in the Professor's office in 15 minutes.  I am on my way presently to wake Miss Pryde."  Hank says, distantly remembering the first time someone woke him in the middle of the night for his first mission.  The feeling never goes away.

     "Um, don't bother, Dr. McCoy," Bobby says.  Hank follows the young mutant's eyes, looking over his shoulder to see the slumbering Kitty Pryde, curled unawares under a quilt on Bobby's bed.  "I'll tell her."

     "Well, that certainly saves me a trip."  Hank says with a sly grin.  "You have 14 minutes."  Hank says before heading down towards the door to Peter Rasputin's room.

--

     Sunlight pours in through the opening back doors of the van, causing both bound mutants to squint as they are yanked into the sunlit morning.

     "The ride's over, children," Mystique says. The blond man in tow behind her reaches in to grab Rogue. 

"Havok, wait.  I'll get her.  She's dangerous."

     "She's only a girl."  Havok says, not believing the blue woman.

     "And one touch of her skin and you won't wake up.  Isn't that right?"  Mystique says, teeth gleaming white against indigo skin. A lock of her scarlet hair turns white, as if in mockery of the young girl.

     "Ah don't know," Rogue responds icily.  "Why don't you touch me and we'll find out together."

With gloved hands, Mystique reaches in and hauls her from the van, throwing the young girl to the ground.

     Havok pulls Jono from the van as Toad, Sabretooth and Pyro all walk around to the back of the van.

     "Take them to Magneto," Mystique says.

     "Where are you going?"  Pyro asks.

     The blue woman stops and narrows her yellow eyes at John. 

"Nowhere that concerns you, child," she snaps, shutting the boy up quickly.

     Pyro grabs one of Jono's arms as Toad takes the other.  Rogue watches them lead the young Englishman though the front door of a cavernous house with massive doors.  A sharp shove to the back nearly knocks her off balance--Sabretooth's way of telling her it's time to follow.

--

     "Good morning, Professor," Bobby and Kitty say at the same time, entering the double doors of the office precisely 13 minutes after Hank knocked on Bobby's door.  Peter offers both students a shy smile.

     "Please, have some breakfast."  Xavier smiles kindly as he gestures to the try of pastries, bagels and tea.  They each grab a muffin and take a seat on the leather sofa next to Peter.

     "Ororo and Kurt are on their way."  Both Bobby and Kitty startle slightly at the sound of Dr. McCoy's voice.  In the corner, the blue scientist, in his black leather uniform, was nearly invisible in the shadows.

     Moments later, both Kurt and Ororo enter the office carrying a carafe of what smells like extremely strong coffee. 

"The Jet is ready, Professor," Ororo says, smiling at her newest teammates.

     "The briefing shouldn't take too long."  The Professor says with an impish glint in his eye that makes Kitty feel as if she's been busted. 

     "The important thing is this--if you do not wish to be a part of this team, a part of this mission, it is perfectly acceptable to leave.  You can go back to bed, and nothing else will be said.  Thanks to my little girl who can walk through walls here, you all know what the mission entails.  We have to get Rogue and Remy back safely to the mansion.  They are in Chicago at the moment, in the custody of the Brotherhood.  Do you want to go?"

     "Why us?"  Peter blurts out. He blushes crimson--he is not used to the situation, or the attention he has suddenly garnered himself.

     "We know of your exemplary performance when the mansion was attacked.  We have tapes of your Danger Room sessions.  To be honest, we were going to call all four of you up at the end of the summer, But it looks as though your commencement exercises are moved ahead a few months," Hank says evenly.

     "Four?"  Bobby asks.

     "Yes.  Rogue is to be part of the team as well."  The Professor answers.

     "You do not have to go if you feel you are not prepared."  Ororo says reassuringly.

     "I'll go."  Bobby says evenly, if a little quietly.  A member of his family is in trouble, and it is time to go get them.

     "I'm going.  I know Chicago," Kitty says strongly, curling her fingers in Bobby's hand.

     "When do we leave?"  Peter says resolutely. 

     "_Jetzt._** [Now.]**" Nightcrawler says with authority, walking out the door.  The rest of the team stands and each nods at the Professor in turn before following the German to the hanger.

     Once Xavier is alone in his office once more, he crosses himself and makes a silent prayer that each of his children comes home.

--

     A loud knock on the door rivets the attention of the three men in the room.  Cyclops opens the door to receive his new team. 

Standing on the front step, the group is assembled like the front of a comic book cover.  Both the Beast and Cyclops nod to each other as the team begins to file in.  Bringing up the rear are the newest members--Colossus, Shadowcat and Iceman.

     "Well, well," Comes a voice from the corner of the room.  "Remy see the Iceman cometh."     

Iceman turns to look at the dark-eyed vagabond in the corner.  "I'm just here to clean up the mess you made."

     The card in Remy's hand glows electric magenta as Bobby's hands turn icy.

     "_Genug_! **[Enough!]**" Nightcrawler explodes, stepping between the two mutants.  "If we could, I would leave you both here.  I can't." Iceman and Remy look at the demon-like mutant, who has said nearly nothing since leaving Xavier's office.

"_Was auch immer zwischen Ihnen ist, beenden Sie es."_ **[Whatever is between you, end it.]**"

     "He means cut it out," the Beast says simply, "or we leave you both here, tied to a chair."

     The two young hotheads back down from their ready stances, their cards and hands returning to their normal, unaffected state.

     "Good.  Now that we have that settled, we can get down to a search."  Cyclops says turning to Shadowcat. 

"So just how much do you know about Chicago?"

--

     "You stay here, kids.  The big boys have a meeting."  John says.  With a growl, Sabretooth shoves him through the large office doorway.  Rogue and Jono watch until the doors swing closed.

     :: It's time, yeah?:: Jono thinks.

     ::You bet, sugah.  We just need to be as inconspicuous as possible,::  Rogue says, shifting her weight back and forth, inching her shirt high and higher while tugging on a belt loop of her jeans in the back where her hands are bound.  Jono watches as a sliver of alabaster skin emerges between her shirt and the top of her jeans.

Jono inches the cuff of his black shirt up to expose his arm as much as possible.  He steps closer to the girl, inching his wrist just under her shirt.

When Rogue drains anyone, human or mutant, it is an incredible rush.  Secretly, she adores the sensation.  Parts of her body she never even knew existed come alive, as if there is an invading fire that racing through every nerve.  Bobby is the only exception--absorbing him feels as glittering and welcome as ice on a sweltering Mississippi day.

Draining Jono without drugs is unlike anything she could even fathom.  She feels strong and powerful, like every adrenaline junkie's greatest thrill magnified to the _n_th degree.  She audibly gasps at the sensation.

As the newness subsides a bit, she opens her mind wide.  She can begin to hear the conversation inside.  Fragmented thoughts tumble loosely into her conscious mind.  She calls Scott's name and is relieved when he answers.

::Good morning, Marie.::

--

"Now that the search squads are assembled, we should begin our search," Beast says, readying himself mentally for battle.  He has been in a lab to long, and must slip back into the suit, so to speak.

"No, wait," Iceman says.  The entire team stops to look at the younger mutant, who nods towards Cyclops.  "He may know where she is in a few moments."

--

::Scott, can you see where we are?::  Marie asks.

::I can see, but I don't know where it is,::  Scott answers.  ::How are you doing this?::

::Feelin' up a half-assed telepath,:: she answers. He chuckles to himself.

::Ah, I see it now,::  Scott interrupts.  ::Who's there?::

::Magneto, Sabretooth, Mystique, Toad… Pyro… and some mutant named Havok.::

::Never heard of him.  Got a real name?::

::Ain't heard it yet.::  She grows silent.  ::You and Logan, y'all are coming to get us, right?::  she asks.

::Baby, the whole team's coming for you.  We even added people just for you.::

Jono nudges Rogue's hip with his arm.  She looks ahead and watches the double doors in front of her open of their own accord.  Both mutants step forward as she continues her frantic conversation.

::Hang in there, Marie.::  Scoot thinks strongly.

::I will.  I'll beat 'em up.::  Rogue thinks.

::That's my girl,::  Scott replies.

::Scott… Please hurry, sugah.::  Rogue inadvertently sends her panic to him as she breaks the connection to Jono. Both are shivering from shared connection and fear.

--

     "Let's make our guests a bit more comfortable, shall we?"  Magneto's voice is sweet and almost grandfatherly.  Barely though the door, both Jono and Marie get a rough shove in the back, bending each at the waist.  Marie feels her binding being cut by a knife--pinprick sensations between her shoulders tells her that they are Sabertooth's claws.

     "I captured the Rogue myself," John's smug voice can be heard over the beating of her heart.  "It was easy.  She didn't put up much of a fight." 

     "God, John, you are so...pusillanimous sometimes."  Rogue says, her hair falling forward and obscuring her vision.  Magneto chuckles at the bickering pair.

     "Christ, has Logan taken to beating you with dictionaries in the Danger Room now?"  John retorts.

     Rogue stands, flipping her hair behind her, anger evident across her features.  "No John, it's what happens when you live at a school."

     The room grows deadly silent as Magneto narrows his eyes and reaches out to grab John by the shoulders.  One swift thrust finds John hitting the wall with such force that the wind leaves his lungs.  Erik wraps his hand around the boy's throat before speaking.

"Tell me... Tell me you never touched her, or I swear to God I will rip you apart myself and personally deliver the pieces to Mystique."

     John's breath is catching in his throat under Erik's hands, eyes saucer wide as he  realizes his toes are barely scraping the floor.  "I didn't hit her, I swear.  I drugged her, like you said to.  I swear."  His voice cracks slightly with panic. 

Rogue can say nothing in John's defense; her voice is lodged in her throat.  She understands the rage from the man--he saw too many SS guards kill young women to prove their manhood.

     "Why don't I believe you?"  Magneto's voice comes as an icy growl. 

     A blue hand rests lightly but insistently on the older man's shoulder.  "The boy is telling the truth, Erik.  My little girl was in a bar fight earlier.  There's no reason to believe Pyro here could even get in a punch." 

Mystique smiles as she reaches over to touch the bruises on Rogue's cheek.  Rogue pulls back sharply before the blue woman makes contact.

     "Like mother, like daughter, I see."  Magneto smiles, releasing John, anger forgotten.

     "What the hell is this crazy bitch talking about?"  Rogue growls, narrowing her eyes.

     "That would be the animal," Magneto says wryly to Mystique.  Mystique nods her agreement.

     "Don't call him that."  Marie yells as John snickers.  "And you're right, John was never as good as ah am.  Of all the Xavier students to pick, Magneto, ah gotta say your judgment was lacking on this one." 

Mystique's hand whips out to grab the back of Pyro's shirt as he advances on the girl.

"Now now, John.  Be nice to my baby girl."

"Will you stop calling me that?"  Rogue says with venom.   

"What?  Has Xavier really never told you?"  Magneto says smoothly as he leans against his large desk. "Tsk tsk.  My old friend really must be slipping, unless he felt it was simply extraneous information.  Although, I, for one, would say that having your mother work for the Brotherhood would be fairly significant news. Don't you think so, my dear?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rogue asks, her borrowed bravado waning.  Magneto knows information, and is taking great delight in dangling it in front of her. 

"My beautiful changeling here is your mother."

Rogue shudders at the words.  The Erik in her head confirms the news. Rogue shakes her head in disbelief, tears welling in her eyes.

"She's your adopted mother, of course," Erik informs her.

"That's a lie," Rogue stammers.  "Ah know my adopted mother, and she sure as hell didn't have blue skin."

"Oh, I'm afraid that's a deception as well," Magneto says. "The woman who raised you wasn't the woman who adopted you.  There came a time, when you were very young, when you had to go to live with your Aunt."

The tears stream down Rogue's face, pooling on the edge of her ruby quartz goggles.

"Come on, _Liebchen_," Mystique says, circling the girl.  "You always knew you were adopted.  That woman just isn't the one you belong to."  Mystique's multi-tonal voice changes in Rogue's ear, sounding at once familiar and implacable.  "But I always kept an eye on you."

"So what, am ah supposed to call you Daddy now?"  Rogue resorts to sarcasm, still not truly buying that the story is true, but toying with the nagging sensation that it is. 

"Not at all, my dear.  I have my own children to look after.  You are not among them, as much as I am sure that vexes you."  Magneto chuckles.

"Oh, ah'm devastated," Rogue drawls thickly.

::All this is a bloody brilliant bit of pantomime, mate.  Fancy tellin' a bloke why we were dragged out of our beds in the middle of the night?::  Jono projects, stepping closer to Rogue.  She can feel the buzzing sensation from his chest hum against her back.

"Let's just say I need more power than Commonwealth Edison can provide." 

"And you are just the man we're looking for," Mystique says, slinking her way into her favorite position, curled around Magneto hands resting demurely on his shoulder.  "How convenient for me that our little Rogue here brought you straight to us."    

"Business can be taken care of in due time.  Sabretooth, Toad, Pyro, see that our guests are made comfortable.  Pyro, have Havok help you look after the well-being of our guests.  Toad and Sabretooth will be needed in the basement as soon as everyone gets settled."  Magneto says, as efficiently as a concierge ordering staff of a four star hotel.  "I do hope that you enjoy our say with us."

Toad and Pyro grab each of Rogue's elbows and lead her from the room.

"Y'all know they're coming to get us," Rogue says, craning her neck over her right shoulder. 

"Tell me, girl, how is your dear brother?"  Mystique and Magneto both laugh as Rogue is dragged forcibly into the hallway, unable to articulate a response.

--

Cyclops blinks rapidly for a moment before he notices the rest of the team staring expectantly at him. 

"So, One-Eye, care to share with the rest of the class?"  Wolverine asks, arms crossed over his white tank top, the top half of his uniform bunched around his waist.

"It's time," Cyclops says readily, returning to familiar territory.  "Suit up and get in the jet.  I'll brief you all on the way."  He watches as the team files past him, game faces on, underlying nervousness aglow in the new four.

Logan rests a hand on Scott's shoulder.  "Marie..."

"She's fine, Logan.  A little beat up from the fight, but other than that, she's fine."  Scott turns to look at the feral man, allowing a look of pride to cross his face.  "They had to drug her."

Logan grins evilly.  "They can't take her without drugging her."

"Yeah, she's a little proud of that too."  Scott grins before both men make their way to the waiting X-jet.

--

"'Ere we are, then," Toad says, leading Jono and Rogue into a large suite.  "You kids have a lovely time, yeah?"  Toad says, blinking owl-like before both he and Sabertooth turn on their heels to leave. 

"We'll call you when we are ready for the boy."  Sabretooth growls as they pass Pyro and Havok, carrying trays of food.

"I always suspected," Pyro retorts before a roar makes him jump.  Havok snickers.

--

"You might want some of this," Havok says, placing a tray of food on a table in the center of the room.  It smells heavenly, with heaps of pancakes, bacon, eggs of every kind and three different kinds of syrup.

Rogue digs in immediately.  Jono reaches and grabs her arm.  ::You may not want to do that,::  He thinks quietly.

::Why not?::

::Might not be safe,::  Jono answers.

Rogue shakes her head.  ::That's an old SS trick,:: she thinks, taking a large bite of sausage. ::If there's one thing Erik won't do, it is resort to anything a German would do.:: 

"You can eat, too," Havok says, sitting in a plush chair in the corner of the room by the door.

"He doesn't eat."  Rogue offers between bites.

::Mutation gone horribly wrong, yeah?::  Jono thinks acidly, his mind always looking for the opportunity if it ever presented itself.

"That happens?"  Alex Summers says.  Growing up so isolated from a mutant community, he feels as if there so much he is playing catch-up on.

"Yeah, sometimes it's pretty bad.  I met a guy once who had to wear goggles to keep from blowing shit up all the time.  I think he was brain damaged or something."  John says, watching Rogue's face grow as red as her goggles with anger.

"After you eat, there's a shower in the next room," Havok says, watching the pair.

     "I'm sure you'd love to watch," Rogue snaps back at both men.

     "No, the entire room is secure.  You are allowed to wander around it unsupervised, at will," Havok says evenly.

     "Well, thank you kindly, ah will." Rogue stands and shrugs out of her coat, letting the wool heap on the floor.  She walks to the bathroom and shuts the door.

     ::Jono, try sending this as quietly as possible to Scott… Whatever it is, it's in the basement.::

     ::Will do, love.::

--

     Rogue emerges from the bathroom, her hair still slightly damp, slipping on her gloves.  It did feel good to be clean once more.

     She can hear John's sarcastic voice as she opens the door.  "Time to go, Sparky."

     ::Sod off.::

     "Where are you taking him?"  Rogue demands.

     "Nothing for you to worry about," Havok reassures.  "He'll be just fine." Rogue looks deep into his eyes and knows he believes that is true.  A flash of a dream takes her aback.

"You know, Rogue, those are great sunglasses," Pyro says backhandedly. "They look like Cyclops', don't they, Alex?" 

Havok gives the boy a confused look. 

"Oh, I guess you wouldn't know.  You've never looked into the eye of a Cyclops." John snickers and leaves, leading a frantically projecting Jono down the hall. 

::Get out of here.  Please love, get out of here!::  Jono allows his words to echo over and over in her mind. 

Alex closes the door and turns to look at the girl. Rogue takes a tentative step, slowly, contemplatively, before the resignation of a decision settles on her consciousness.  Alex almost smiles at the sight.

"So, you're Alex."  Rogue says, coming closer one step at a time.  "The last time ah saw you, you were just a little boy."

     "How old are you, skunk girl?"  Alex asks with a smirk.

     "Seventeen," she answers sweetly.  "Eighteen, by the end of the summer." 

     Alex laughs unabashedly at the girl.  "You remember me, do you?  Sweetheart, I was 6 when you were born."

     "Yeah, ah know."  Rogue continues.  "Ah know a lot of things about you."

     "Alright, skunk girl, I'll play.  What do you know about me?"  Alex asks, taking a step forward, stopping her in her tracks.

     "Ah know your parents were killed."  She offers as an opener. 

     "So does everyone else."

     "Ah know your parents were killed in a plane crash." 

"You're going to have to do better than that."  Alex yawns.

     "Ah know there was only one parachute.  Ah know that your parents strapped it to your brother, and you hung on to him.  Ah know you were terrified.  You were, what...four maybe?  You told him you were scared.  He told you it was an adventure, just like your Dad had.  Ah know your brother's name is Scott."

     Each revelation from the young girl's lips hits Alex Summers like a hammer in the heart.  Alex's eyes widen, stricken before pain narrows them once more.  "Was.   My brother's name was Scott.  He's dead.  But then again, I guess you know that, huh, skunk girl?"

     Rogue shakes her head, a look of hurt wrapped in fear crossing her face.

"He ain't dead, Alex." Rogue's voice cuts through the silence of the room.

     "I would know.  My brother died protecting me from the crash."

     Rogue smiles.  "Your brother's a protector, all right."

     "Was."  Alex growls.

     "Is."  Rogue insists firmly.

     "How do you know that stuff about me?"  Alex asks.

     "My mutation. Ah absorb people.  When ah absorb someone, ah can share their memories.  Ah near absorbed your brother completely once."

     "My brother is dead.  You're lying."

     "Think about it, baby brother," Rogue says, her intonation beginning to mirror that of her teacher.  "How did I know about the crash?  I was born two years after your parents died.  I lived nowhere near the crash or you.  How did you I got the information?  I touched your brother.  I have his memories.  I know you, Alex.  I know what it is like to feel you wrapped around my body.  I know that you closed your eyes the entire way down.  You told Scott you were scared.  You couldn't even answer his questions.  You could only nod.  I can still feel wisps of your hair brushing the back of my neck.  I know how tight your legs were around my waist.  I can feel them still.  Think, Alex.  How do I know this?  I know where your brother is.  I know he is alive.  I know he turned so he hit the ground first.  He protected you."

     "Stop!"  Alex screams, raising his hands and sending out an energy blast to the girl, throwing her across the room. 

"My brother loved me," Alex yells in anguish.  "He died protecting me."  He stands heaving and gulping air, before a breath catches in his throat.  In the small pile of crushed drywall and mangled furniture in the corner of the room, the girl he thought he'd blasted into oblivion stands up and dusts herself off, straightening her gloves.  He stands riveted as she steps closer. 

     "Now do you believe me, baby brother?"  Rogue asks, her voice once again her own.

     "You're still alive," Alex breathes, more to himself than to the girl right under his nose.

     "You're not the only one Scott protects."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Yes, yes, I know. It has been a long time since I last posted. Life completely got in the way. I'll try not to make y'all wait so long next time, promise. Oh, and I can't remember who left me a comment about Storm's name (sorry), but I checked it out. Ororo is her name...Aurora is the name of Northstar's sister. Alright, once again, I do not own the X-men, I just play with them and there is no intent on making any money, otherwise I would have posted sooner because I am poor. bows Thank you.

"Bring him here." Mystique's voice can be heard from a corner of a brightly lit room. Chamber is led off the elevator and through the door.

::So you gonna bloody off me now?:: He projects.

"Quite the opposite, dear boy," says Magneto, entering the room from the other side, moving opposite the indigo-skinned woman. "We need you very much alive. You are no good to us dead."

::Somehow, that's not as comforting as it should be.::

"My brother?" Alex Summers starts. "That's impossible."

Rogue shakes her head. "It's true. Scott is an X-Man named Cyclops. That's what John was talking about…looking into the eye of a Cyclops. It was a dig at you and Scott." Alex nods.

"That shit," Alex says, slumping into a crouch on the floor, head in hands.

"He looked for you," Rogue says, placing a gloved palm on the man's shoulder. "When he was old enough. Xavier, too. They were told you simply had immunity, and not the x-gene. Scott still felt bad about the accident."

"The plane crash? It wasn't his fault." Alex answers.

Rogue shakes her head sadly. "No, when he fell, he hit you with an optic blast." Alex looks up at the girl.

"They're a lot like yours, but they come from his eyes. That's why you couldn't hurt me. It's some sort of genetic thing named after you two, actually."

"Really?" Alex asks, overwhelmed at the information.

Rogue smiles reassuringly. "Look..." She stops, trying to decide whether or not to trust the man in front of her. "They're coming to get me. The X-Men. Scott's leading the team. What do you know about what's going on?"

Alex looks at the girl, confused. "I'm not sure completely. I know Erik said something about needing a mutant, I guess Chamber, to run the machine."

In a swell of anger, Rogue pulls the man up by the collar. "What machine? Is that what's in the basement? What does it do?"

Alex shrugs helplessly. "I don't know. He talked about how he was going to make the world safer for mutants. He took the plans from the government. Do you see? Our world is going to get better."

Rogue slumps, releasing Alex once again. "Not really. Whatever it does, it'll kill a lot of people."

"But mutants will be safe," Alex says, grabbing her shoulders, trying to get her to understand.

Rogue grows very serious. "And everyone else will die."

Alex blinks, dumbstruck. "Lehnsherr never said that."

"He's tried something like this before. Remember Liberty Island? That was him. I almost died that night." She indicates her skunk stripe. "Got a nifty little souvenir in the proc..."

Rogue stops, a panicked expression forming on her face. "Oh God, Alex." She grabs his face between her gloved palms. "Alex, tell me, is there anyone else, anyone other than Jono and I, being held here?"

Her heart bottoms out as he nods his head, eyes filled with understanding.

Storm eases the jet down in a small clearing a little way from Magneto's mansion. Cyclops turns to look at the mammoth form manning the control panel behind. "Beast, what are you picking up on the sweep?"

"I have triangulated the exact location of the dwelling, but I cannot access the schematics." Hank responds.

"Sounds like front door time," Logan says, rubbing his hands together. He can already feel his claws itching for a fight, the wolverine barely under the surface. He knows he's close; he can nearly smell Rogue.

"No, it is too big of a risk. If Chamber gets hurt, he could take out the entire mansion," Storm says.

"Nightcrawler, you're going to have to teleport us in," Cyclops says, turning to the indigo, demon-like man behind him.

"_Nein,_" Kurt Wagner objects."I can't. I could teleport into a wall. I cannot see where I am going."

"There is no other safe way to enter," the Beast says.

"It's impossible. It can't be done like that. I've only teleported blind once, and that was only a few feet. You want me to do it at an angle, underground. Impossible. I'll kill myself, and whoever I have with me."

"Wait," Kitty Pryde says, standing. The attention of the entire team rests on the girl. "Once you teleport once, you'll know where you're going, right?"

"Well, _ja,_ assuming I don't splice myself into a wall, I could teleport back and forth." Kurt answers. Bobby Drake smiles, understanding Kitty's plan.

Kitty looks sternly at the elder X-Men. "Get us as close to the house as you can. Nightcrawler and I will get in first."

"But... a wall…" Kurt starts.

"A wall is no match for our Shadowcat," Storm says proudly.

"Do you know how we know about you?" Erik Lehnsherr asks the faceless mutant in front of him.

::Nope. Why don't ye tell me, yeah?::

"You visited the United States once before, didn't you?" Mystique asks. Jonothan Starsmore turns his attention to her once more. " Right after your mutation manifested?"

::So what? I went to see Dr. McCoy and Dr. Richards. They couldn't help me.::

"They're still working on that, did you know?" Mystique asks.

Jono shook his head. He believed both men had forgotten about it the moment he had left. They were busy men, after all.

"You passed through customs, and got a file in Col. William Stryker's office. That is where we found you." Magneto says calmly.

"That's where we got the plans for this little thing here," Mystique says, indicating the massive machine in the center of the equally massive room.

::What's it do?:: Jono asks.

"What it does now isn't nearly as important as what it was supposed to do," Magneto says, advancing on the boy.

::Right. So what was it supposed to do?::

"It was designed to destroy the x-gene. To leach your mutation forcibly from your body." Magneto says menacingly, coming nose to nose with the young Englishman. "Quite unpleasant, I assure you."

::So if that's what the bloody thing did, what the hell does it do now?:: Jono questions.

"It works backwards, of course," Pyro says exasperatedly. The room is quiet while the members of the Brotherhood look to their youngest member.

Toad that breaks the silence.

"John, lad?"

"What?"

"Don't help."

As Kitty looks at the team, she feels incredibly small.

"You'll be fine, _Katzchen_." Kurt smiles. She holds out her small, pale hand, with its five tapered fingers. Kurt envelopes her hand in his own dark, three-pronged grip.

"Ready?" she asks with a small smile

Kurt nods. The last thing Kitty sees before she is teleported is Bobby's worried face. The next thing she knows, she is slipping through thick adamantium. She lands lightly on her feet as Kurt tumbles onto the floor in a heap.

"I'm going to be sick," he moans.

"That can happen sometimes," Kitty says, rubbing large circles on the German's back. "Think you can get us back?"

"_Ja,_" Kurt says, standing once more. Even through midnight blue skin, he looks quite green. "We should get back."

She nods and takes his hand. In a moment, she is looking into the expectant faces of her teammates once more.

::So you want me to provide the power for this machine?:: Chamber says, accent growing thick with smugness. ::Somehow, I don't see that happening.::

"We could always unwrap you," Toad says, tongue snapping out like a whip from across the room, tugging slightly at a strip of leather until an orange, iridescent glow peeks its way out. Toad's tongue returns to him once more in the blink of an eye.

::That's bloody good, mate. Unwrap me and I'll be the only one walking out of here today. Saves a lot of time, really, yeah?" A cocky look crosses the remnants of the Englishman's face.

"We modified the machine, to protect our own intests." Mystique explains.

::Good to know. What does it do now?::

"Now it will simply copy the mutation from one person and pass it on to another mutant without harming the other person," Magneto says. "Or so we hope. It's all quite experimental."

Jono's eyes follow the blue skinned woman over to a small metal devise on the wall and pressing a button. "Havok."

Kitty reaches out and grabs Logan's hand, while Dr. Hank McCoy's large blue paw swallows her smaller hand whole. The rest of the team watches Logan's eyes grow wide as the three of them sink below the earth. Hank grins.

"It takes a bit to get used to, _ja_?" Kurt grins toothily. Logan nods before being encased in the ground.

"Ready to go?" Kurt asks, offering both of his hands. Scott takes one hand while Ororo steps closer, allowing Kurt to drape his arm across her waist while his tail wraps around her leg. She knows from their Danger Room training that it's easier for him to teleport more than one person if they are closer to him. She scrunches her eyes shut, just like every other time.

Peter Rasputin and Bobby Drake watch all three of their teachers disappear in a _bamf_ of smoke and imploding air. In an instant, Kurt reappears just long enough to grab the back of Remy LeBeau's duster and yank. Iceman and Colossus see Remy lose his balance, falling backward, disappearing into the brimstone stench long before he even comes close to hitting the ground.

Bobby looks up at Peter. "Think they forgot us?"

Peter regards his teammate. "Maybe."

Both boys do not see the top half of Kitty emerge from the ground below their feet. Kitty grabs both of their hands and phases all three into the ground below.

Bobby looks down with a grin. "'Bout time, Pryde."

"Shut up, Drake."

With the team reassembled at a four-way cross-section of hallway, Storm hands out communicators.

"They fit in your ear," she tells the newest members, and watches as each fits them in their ear in turn. "They are small and plastic. Hopefully Magneto will not be able to use them against us."

"Good. Hank, Remy, Peter, pick one direction." Cyclops says indicating the hallways.

Hank looks at Scott and grins. He then nudges the lanky Cajun next to him. "Remy, walk to each hall and tell me how you feel."

"Remy doin' what?" he asks, confused.

Scott returns the smile of the furry doctor. "Just do it," he says reassuringly.

Remy walks to the first hallway, and clenches his hands into tight fists. "Anger," he answers, almost bearing his teeth.

"Sound like that tunnel's playing my song," Logan growls. "Come on," he growls, grabbing Kitty's sleeve. Bobby follows.

"It's angry? Oh great," Kitty's voice echoes as the trio proceeds down the hall.

Remy walks to the next passageway. "Everything is calm here."

"We'll go that way and see where it leads," Storm says looking from Kurt to Scott. "There may be another way out." Cyclops nods in agreement. Kurt and Ororo disappear around a corner.

Remy walks to the third corridor and begins to tremble. "I'm confused. Scared. Angry." He pauses. "Smug, even. Weird, _neh?_"

"Sounds like that is where the Brotherhood is gathered," the Beast observes. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes," Scott says. "I can feel Rogue down the fourth tunnel. There's only one other person with her, I think. I'll get her and meet you." Scott turns and disappears down the fourth path.

"Dr. McCoy, what was that all about?" Colossus asks.

"Yeah, Remy don't know what he doin'," the Cajun adds.

Hank smiles. "Your Miss Rogue was able to tell us more about your particular physiological blessings of which you yourself may not even be aware."

Remy looks dumbfounded.

Hank sighs, moving down the hall. "You're an empath, kid," he whispers to Remy. "I'll explain it to you later." Both Remy and Peter follow the feline man down the passageway toward the lab.

"Alex, who is it?" Rogue asks, hands still resting on his face, insuring his attention is firmly hers. The man shrugs under her hands.

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A boy."

"What can he do?" Rogue prompts, growing nervous.

"I don't know," Alex says, growing frustrated at not having the answers.

"Think. Did they call him anything? A name, a code name, anything? Did Magneto say anything about seeing him before? Please, think," Rogue pleads.

The buzz from the intercom by the door grabs Alex's attention. He looks at Rogue, who nods. He walks purposefully to the wall.

"Yes, Mystique?" Alex's voice is clear and strong. _Ah guess the ability to slip in and out of leader mode is genetic_,Rogue thinks.

The Logan in her head snickers. _Told you he was born a dick._

"Havok, bring my daughter..." Mystique pauses for emphasis, knowing Marie can hear every word. She looks over her shoulder to watch the look of dread in Jono's eyes. "...to the basement. Bind her hands."

"Right away." Havok replies with such focus and readiness to comply with the order that Marie fears that she has placed her hope in the wrong hands.

"Oh, and Havok?"

"Yes?" Alex answers.

"Watch her skin."

"Of course," Alex answers, releasing the button and expelling the sigh held in his chest.

He turns to look at Rogue. "The X-Men are coming to get you?"

"Yes."

"Scott is coming to get you?"

"Yes," she answers again.

"Then you're going to need to get a look at what you're up against. I think it might be best to bring you, like she wants." Alex says, unsure.

"So you're tyin' me up and draggin' me to the basement, then, aren't ya, sugah?" Rogue questions, grabbing her coat and sliding her arms in the sleeves with a flurry of green fabric.

"Yes I am," Alex says grabbing hold of a pair of gloves resting in the chair next to him and sliding them on his hands. "The question is, are you going to make this difficult for me?"

"That all depends," the young girl says, taking a step backward into a more defensive stance. "Do I have an ally?"

Alex stops and grows quiet. "If you're telling the truth, you have nothing to worry about."

"If Scott comes…" Rogue starts, breathing labored.

"…then I will do everything in my power to fight with you. If he doesn't, then I will make sure you make it out of this alive…so I can strangle you with my bare hands."

Rogue locks eyes with the man before deliberately turning her back, wrists touching behind her back.

Both mutants stand for what seems like an eternity before Rogue looks over her left shoulder at the man.

"We have a deal, Mr. Summers."

Alex nods as he grabs a length of rope off a side table.

In the silence, only their heavy boots mark their presence. Scott can feel his heart beating in his chest. Last time, he couldn't do anything to save his teammate. This time he can. With a deep breath and a malice-laden grin, he steps out of the shadows.

Rogue sees Scott's form moments before he steps into the light.

"Scott!" She sighed aloud in relief. Alex looks down at the girl, eyes wide. She then sees Scott's hand on his visor. Her eyes dart to Alex, and her mind instantly snaps to the picture this creates—her bound and led by an unknown man towards God knows what.

"Scott, no!" Rogue calls. It is too late. Scott's red optic blast strikes Alex square in the chest, a perfect shot.

Rogue spins on her heels and drops to her knees at Alex's side. "Alex. Alex, wake up." Scott hears her say. He grabs Marie's arm to help her up and is surprised when she struggles against him. She looks up at him with wide eyes.

"Scott, help him. It's Alex. It's your brother."


	14. Chapter 14

Author's note: Holy crap! I know I know I know. I am a horrible person. It has been ages since the last chapter came out. I will say that I have begun to write the next chapter so the wait will be MUCH shorter, I promise. As always: I own nothing. I want nothing (but loads of comments good, bad, or ugly). I make no money off of this. bows to Marvel with the expensive lawyers

Scott looks into Rogue's wild eyes and knows what Rogue says is true. "My God." Scott breathes.

"God damn...that sucks." Alex moans drawing the attention of both X-men. "Did it feel like that when I hit you?"

Rouge breathes a sigh of relief and nods, white strip of hair bobbing with the motion. "Yeah, sugah."

"Sorry bout that." He groans raising himself to a sitting position.

"Wait..Alex?" Scott asks.

Rogue nods. "Magneto found your brother and recruited him."

Scott offers his hand to Alex and helps him to his feet. "So it would seem." He smiles as both men embrace.

"I thought you were dead." Alex says.

Scott chuckles "I thought you weren't a mutant."

"Guess you boys were both wrong." Rogue offers.

"Now, I believe it is time to bring in our guest. He's has been eager to get out of that room since he got here. Toad, if you please." Magneto says as if he were bringing an old friend in from the veranda for dinner. Toad hops off to retrieve the 'guest'. After a moment, he adds "Pyro, go with him. Our guest might want to see a familiar face." Pyro nods before heading toward the just closed door where Toad disappeared.

:So, I don't suppose you're going to tell a bloke what this mutant can do, no: Jono projects.

Mystique snickers as she is typing information into a computer on the large machine. "No I don't think I will." Erik says with a cordial grin.

Jono watches Toad reemerge from the side room with a struggling young man, younger than the Englishman in any event.

"Any trouble?" Mystique asks. The young man stops struggling at the sound of the blue woman's voice.

"He was no trouble at all," Toad says.

Pyro pats the boy heartily on his back. "Its almost as if he was willing." John narrows his eyes. "Eagerness must be a family trait. Something I admired in his sister, I must say." He laughs.

The young man's head whips around, pure hatred reflecting in he eyes. Without prior comment, he spits in Pyro's face. "Traitor." He grinds out.

"Are you all right, _liebchen?_" Nightcrawler asks as he and Storm walk down the corridor.

"I am fine, Kurt," Storm replies, giving him an uneasy smile. "I get claustrophobic sometimes." She pulls her cape closer around her.

"It's just a little phobia," Kurt says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"It is... More than that," Ororo begins, uneasily. "When I was growing up, we lived in Cairo. One day, my parents' home was leveled by a crashed Israeli airplane. We were buried under the rubble for a long time. Two days, they said. By the time they had found me, my parents were dead. All I can remember is hearing them call for me, while I was under the debris, and then, they stopped. And I was alone, under all the rubble..."

"But you survived, _Sturmgotterin,_" Kurt says, taking Ororo in his arms. "You're alive. I, for one, am thankful for that."

"I am as well," Storm says. "I think I would feel better if there was a breeze." Her eyes slowly glaze to solid white, and on command a small wind blows through the tunnel.

Magneto stops talking mid-sentence and looks past the occupants of the room. He stares at the thick metal door. For as long as he can remember Erik Lenscherr has been connected to metal; organic, inorganic, it didn't matter. It was as if every metal object was an extension of his entire being. He could make it bend to his will. Even blood, if a person was not anemic, spoke to him. Right now the constant in his life was screaming at him. The basement can be accessed by four tunnels. At nearly the same time the walls all told the same story with different tunnels. The temperature of one of the tunnels dipped quickly and the air shifted in another tunnel.

There were people coming. They were uninvited and needed to be removed.

"Toad, Sabretooth, we have rats in our cellar. Toad, take the east tunnel. Sabretooth, take the north." Both men go out the door, Sabretooth with a sick sneer. This was going to be fun and he was ready for a little fun.

"I'll re-assemble the team." Scott says. He turns to speak into his comlink. "Logan...we need to meet up with Hank's team."

Scott gets a growl in response through his communicator. "I'm a little busy here, bub."

Kitty can hear the sharp in take of air from the darkness and the corresponding rumbling voice reverberating off the walls, "I see you brought me something pretty, runt."

"You'll have to come through me to get her." Wolverine announces drawing his claws with a _snikt_ that makes Bobby wince as he steps in front of Kitty and drops the air temp.

Sabretooth steps into the light with a dangerous grin, "That won't work, kid. I can still smell her. I just can't wait to see what she smells like when I am in her."

Logan launches himself, sinking six sharp claws into Sabretooth's abdomen, only to be grabbed by the neck and thrown against the wall of the tunnel with a sharp crack. Kitty rushes over to him. "I'm a little busy here, bub." She hears him say as he starts to stand.

Bobby throws ice around Sabretooth entombing the feral man in ice with a smirk. With an enraged growl, the ice explodes releasing a cold livid Sabretooth.

Wolverine stands without taking Kitty's offered hand. He shakes his head waiting for his healing factor to stop the ringing in his ears.

Sabretooth picks up Bobby, bringing him close with a sick sneer. "I see Xavier has sent children to fight us. What's goin' on, Runt? Ya the great-grandfather of the group?" Sabretooth grinds out before throwing Bobby to hit Logan squarely in the chest knocking both men to the ground.

Nightcrawler shines his flashlight on the walls of the tunnel. Water is dripping from pipes above, and cables run down the lengths of the walls. One wall has a raised walkway against it. "This tunnel just seems to go on and on," he says, looking over at Storm. Her breathing has quickened. "Breathe easy, _liebchen,_" he says, trying to comfort her. "We'll meet up with the others soon, I'm sure."

Just then, a blinding flash lights the tunnel a blazing white. Toad has arrived, tossing phosphorus grenades to blind the X-Men. He jumps down a few feet in front of the pair, landing with a splash in a puddle of water, and lashes the flashlight out of Nightcrawler's hands with his tongue. Then he bounds across and connects feet first with Storm's stomach. Before she can catch her breath, Toad lets loose a load of mucus from his mouth, which hardens on contact with her face.

Toad looks over at Nightcrawler, who is still struggling to regain his eyesight. "Fancy this bird, do ya?" he says with a sneer. "Hope you enjoy watching her die."

"Leave her alone!" Kurt yells. In a blink, he _bamfs_ behind Toad and sucker-punches him in the back. Toad leaps away, lashing his tongue at the demonlike mutant's head. Kurt's eyesight is returning, however, and he has excellent night vision; he snatches the end of Toad's tongue and yanks, pulling Toad to the ground.

Toad reels his tongue in and leaps at Nightcrawler. Kurt leaps as well, and the two mutants collide in mid-air. Kurt wraps himself around Toad and _bamfs_ away towards the ceiling. He lashes his tail to one of the overhead pipes and drops Toad to the ground.

Storm writhes in agony, trying to break the shell off her face. She can't see, can't breathe. Her claustrophobia kicks into overdrive; she screams, but the shell muffles the sound.

Nightcrawler can hear the muffled screams of his lover in between the _bamfs_ of compressing air and the thuds of landed punches and kicks. Toad is relentless in attack, his feet kicking and tongue lashing at every opportunity. Nightcrawler's repeated teleportations fill the tunnel with sulfuric smoke.

Kurt landed a lucky punch, knocking Toad's infrared goggles from his face.

"Bugger!" Toad yells, his eyes trying to find light in the smoke-filled room. "Where the bloody hell are you?"

"Here!" Kurt punches and teleports.

"And here!" Another punch. "And here!" A kick. "And here!" A tail lash. Kurt teleports faster and keeps hitting Toad…

Until a lucky lash-out hits Kurt in the throat, leaving him collapsed on the floor, struggling to breathe.

"Your loverboy's on the ground strugglin' to breathe, love," Toad says as he walked towards the still struggling Storm. "Just you and me now, yeah? And I've been wanting to thank you for zapping me into the Hudson River."

Storm take in a deep breath as Toad walked closer. If her eyes had been visible, Toad would have seen them turn white as her hair.

With a bolt of electricity, the mucus breaks loose from Storm's face. She rises into the air, carried by a tornado wind she has produced.

"Go away, little Toad," she taunts. Static charges run along the wall and around where Toad stands on the floor, as if it is alive and seeking him out. Suddenly, Toad finds himself thrown aloft by a cyclone. Spinning in the air, he is helpless to act as arcs of electricity strike him and knock him unconscious.

Nightcrawler gets up in time to see Toad light up like the Vegas Strip. He watches the villain drop like a rock to the ground, squirming from the shock.

"I know you didn't kill him," he says, walking over to Storm. "I'm still amazed. Remind me never to get you mad."

"We should go," Storm said, lowering herself to the ground. "And fast. I am tired of this tunnel."

"I've been waiting for you." Sabretooth grins. "I can't wait to be buried deep inside you." He says advancing.

Kitty watches the man advance toward her and remembers the invasion of the mansion. On impulse, she runs head on to the feral man. She launches herself high enough that she phased through his heart.

With a roar, he hits the ground, leaving Kitty to be standing shin deep in his chest, when he fell backwards on her.

"Me first." She says resolutely looking down at an unconscious Sabretooth. She looks up and the men standing. "Ready?" She asks sweetly.

Logan grins evilly. "I'm ready, kid." He says making a mental note to add Kitty to his training roster just as soon as he got back to the mansion.

Scott, Alex and Rogue watch as the rest of the team reassemble before them. Wolverine's claws pop into place at the sight of a bound Rogue being escorted by an unfamiliar blond man. "Who the hell is this?" he growls, approaching cautiously.

"Wolverine, stop," Cyclops orders.

"It's all right, Logan," Rogue says softly, knowing Scott's orders were no good. "He's with us. At least he is now."

"I'm his brother," Alex offers, pointing to Scott.

"More importantly, he's our way in," Rogue said softly. "'Salright, sugah. This…" She held out her bound hands. "...is just for effect."

"Great. Another frickin' Summers boy." Still scowling at the new person in their midst, Logan sheathed his claws. "So what now, Scooter?"

Scott offers Rogue a comlink. "Storm gave me this for you."

She looks at Scott and raises an eyebrow raising her still bound hands behind her back, "A little help, sugah."

Scott smiles and steps up to place the earpiece in for her. "You will be able to hear us but with this one, I'll be able to hear what goes on in the room."

Rogue nods with a small smile and looks to Alex, "We need to get goin', sugah."

"Ready?" Alex asks as they approach a steel door.

Rogue looks up at him and nods mutely. She doesn't trust her voice.

To complete the illusion that he is still in the Brotherhood, Alex holds Rogue close, with a knife to her throat. The door slides open to reveal a large lab filled with machinery.

"About time you got here." Pyro says.

"Shut up, kid." Alex growls at the younger mutant.

"Boys," Mystique's says loudly interrupting the next round of arguments between the two. "Havok, please bring my daughter over to see her friend. I am not sure he can see her properly from where he is."

Alex clutches the back of Rogue's neck and walks her closer to the figure in the center of the room. There, attached to the machine, was a familiar blond haired boy.

Listening on his comlink, Scott's face takes on an expression of horror at the name Rogue gasps: "Sam."


End file.
